Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls
by mortimorana
Summary: Book two in the Marigold Rosenberg Series. Hoping for an easy second year at Hogwarts, Marigold is in for a surprise when Muggleborns start getting attacked, Ginny, who had been talking to her every day, retreats into a diary, and Harry starts hearing voices in the walls. Tag along as Marigold, Neville, and Harry try to get to the bottom of the blood stained walls. Art Solbabydraws
1. The Rescue of Harry Potter

Chapter 1: The Rescue of Harry Potter

(A/N: Welcome to the second installment of the Marigold Rosenberg series. If you haven't read the first book, _Marigold Rosenberg and the Boy Who Lived_ , I heavily recommend you do that first. Furthermore, if you haven't read the short story, _Is One Letter too Hard, Harry?_ , please go ahead and do that as well as it has important content. If you have done all that, please, please, enjoy _Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls_! Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K Rowling.)

"Harry's in trouble with the ministry."

It was the day after Marigolds birthday and Mr. Weasley had just returned home from yet another raid. Marigold was helping in the kitchen, so it was only herself and Mrs. Weasley who heard the news.

"What kind of trouble?" Mrs. Weasley asked, beating Marigold to the punch.

"Apparently he used magic last night," Mr. Weasley answered, taking a seat at the breakfast table.

"What on earth for?"

"Haven't the foggiest."

While Mr. and Mrs. Weasley continued their conversation, Marigold quietly excused herself from the kitchen. As she made her way up the stairs, she wondered if her idea would work.

It was George who opened the door, looking quite disheveled.

"Good morn—"

"Harry's in trouble," Marigold said, interrupting him.

"What do you mean, trouble?"

Marigold walked into the room. Neither one of the twins was wearing their pajama shirts, and Marigold waited as they scrambled around the room before finally managing to look decent.

She had spent a lot of time in here during the last month. Two twin beds were on opposite walls, but that's where any semblance of a normal bedroom ended. The rest of the room was taken over by different odds and ends who did who knew what.

"I was down in the kitchen with your mum when your dad came in," Marigold started. "He told us Harry used magic."

"What?" Fred asked.

"I know. Look, I haven't heard from Harry since I said goodbye at the station."

"But you've been sending so many letters."

"I keep sending them, but he doesn't respond. He hasn't been responding to Neville, either. We think his aunt and uncle are keeping his letters from him. I've been worried for weeks, and now I hear he's used underage magic and is in trouble with the Ministry…"

"What's the plan?"

"Okay, I have enough money from my job mowing lawns to get the three of us to his house and then the four of us back. I figure the three of us could get him out without the Dursleys noticing."

"Marigold, Harry lives like, three hours away," George sighed.

"I mean, we'll absolutely help you break Harry out. But, no offense, that's a terrible plan," Fred added.

"Well, what do you suppose we do?" she asked, taking a seat at one of their desks.

Fred and George looked at each other, seeming to think of the same thing at the same time.

"Fly, of course," they said in unison.

"Fly?" Marigold said skeptically.

"Remember the blue car we all took to the station last year?"

"Yes?" Marigold was confused, but then she remembered what Mr. Weasley had told her. "It can fly!"

Fred and George nodded.

"But we can't take the car! I mean… there are so many problems with this… your parents will surely catch us, it's illegal, we could be seen, and besides, none of us can drive!"

"We can drive," Fred laughed.

"And we can go at night when mum and dad are asleep! They won't even notice."

"Besides," Fred added, "the car can turn invisible."

Marigold thought for a moment. She wasn't thrilled with the idea of stealing the family car, but she would do anything to get Harry; besides, the twins were very convincing.

"It's still like, three hours, though," she said.

"Yeah, but with no traffic, stops, or detours, we can probably get there in two."

"That's true…"

"We can't do it tonight, there's too much to plan…" Fred said.

"I agree. We should figure things out first. There's so much to do, it'll probably be a few days."

"That's okay. That gives me time to send Neville a letter to tell him our plans."

The three of them promptly got to work planning the rescue of Harry Potter.

 _Dear Neville,_

 _I'm going to get Harry. He got in trouble with the Ministry of Magic over using magic as an underage wizard, and that was the last straw for me. Fred, George, and I are planning his rescue as I write this._

 _We've decided to go get him Monday night. This gives us three days to plan, including today. I can't tell you how we are getting him yet, but when I see you for our birthday I will fill you in._

 _If everything goes to plan, Harry will be with me._

 _Wish us luck,_

 _Marigold_

The three of them planned their rescue meticulously. To keep appearances, Marigold continued to mow lawns whenever they needed mowing. Because she had already been spending so much time with the twins, it didn't seem unusual for the three of them to be up in their room plotting; but, just to be certain, they made sure to blow things up every once in a while.

First, they made sure the car had petrol. Luckily, it did, so that kept Marigold from looking rather out of place buying some.

Second, they had to plan their route, which took up the most time. It turned out Harry only lived two and a half hours away, but with flying and figuring out the perfect route, they managed to cut it down to a little over one hour. Depending on how long it took to get Harry, they could be out and back in a little under three hours.

Lastly, they went through every possible scenario they could think of and planned around it. They couldn't use magic, but anything else was fair game. The twins tried to teach Marigold how to fly and drive the car, but without being able to go near the car without looking suspicious, they gave up on that idea.

It was finally Monday night; after dinner Marigold and the twins went to their rooms and pretended to go to bed. Knowing that everyone would be asleep by midnight, and that Mr. Weasley had gone to the Ministry right after dinner, the three agreed to meet at the car then.

Marigold knew she should try and get some sleep, but she kept worrying about what they were about to do. It was like trying to go to sleep on Christmas Eve: impossible. She kept rolling around, unable to rest.

Finally, the clock on her desk read midnight. As quietly as she could, she got out of bed, put a note to Mrs. Weasley on her pillow, and quietly made her way downstairs.

 _Mrs. Weasley,_

 _Hopefully you wont be up to read this, but if you are, please don't worry; the twins and I are going to get Harry. I haven't heard from him all summer and when Mr. Weasley came home saying Harry was in trouble, I knew I had to do something._

 _We will be home soon._

 _Marigold_

George was waiting for her in the garage, covered in sweat. The car was already gone; he and Fred had pushed it to the end of the driveway and then some, just to make sure that when they started it up, it wouldn't be heard.

Marigold and George walked in silence to the car. Fred was already sitting in the driver's seat; George went to sit up front and Marigold climbed in the back next to the snacks.

There was a moment's pause as the three of them looked at each other, wondering if anyone was going to back out. When no one did, Fred started the car and they were off. Fred drove a few feet down the road, flipped a switch, and suddenly they were soaring to the sky.

They emerged above the clouds and Marigold was awestruck at the sight surrounding her. Glittering stars as far as the eye could see, the moon a beautiful waxing crescent low on the western sky, the clouds below them spanning nearly forever.

"It's beautiful," George whispered from the front seat.

"Very…" Marigold agreed.

"Okay, now, I agree it's beautiful, but I kinda need to know where I'm going," Fred said, gesturing to the map next to Marigold.

"Right!"

For the next few minutes, Marigold directed Fred on where to go. Everything was down to a science; that way they wouldn't have to dip below the clouds and risk being seen.

Marigold was used to hanging out with Fred and George. Over the past month she had helped them with their inventions, which often caused her to puke or erupt in boils. They had talked about Hogwarts of course, and the twins had been satisfied with the little detail they had about Marigold's adventure the previous year (unlike Ron, who, over the summer, had done his best to get more details out of her). So, when George cleared his throat to get her attention, she was expecting anything other than the question he asked.

"So, Marigold, what actually happened that night?"

"Which night?" Marigold asked, suddenly worried as to what he could be referring to.

"The night you, Harry, and Neville went off to find the Sorcerers Stone?"

"Oh, that night…"

"What George is trying to ask," Fred clarified, noticing Marigold's discomfort, "is whether or not you are okay. We were wondering because, all summer, you have been spacing out and acting quite different than you had over the school months…"

"Right, we were just wondering if you wanted to talk about what happened, and we figured if we knew we could help more," George agreed.

Marigold thought about it for a moment. What she had done the previous year had been talked about so much at school that the truth had been lost in the mix of rumors. Marigold had wanted to talk about it, that wasn't the problem; the problem was figuring out who to talk to.

Harry wasn't answering any of her letters, Neville obviously didn't want to talk about what had happened, and Marigold couldn't exactly tell Charlie because that letter would be much too long. Ron and Ginny had been pestering her all summer, but for some reason, Marigold didn't think they actually cared… they just wanted the inside scoop.

The twins, though, this was the first time they had brought it up. Did they just want to know the details of that night? Did they genuinely care? Could they just be trying to fill the silence of the car? Or was it some combination of the three?

"It all started when Malfoy challenged Harry to a duel, like an idiot…"

As Marigold recounted the events of her first year, the twins did their best not to interrupt. But, being Fred and George, they had their questions and comments.

"You can do magic without talking?" Fred interrupted, when Marigold got to the part with the troll in the bathroom.

"What did you see in the mirror?" George butted in several minutes later.

"Wait, that's why you guys lost all those points, helping Hagrid? Sorry for giving you the cold shoulder, Marigold," Fred apologized when Marigold reached the part about Norbert (who she later found out was actually Norberta).

"You fought—a full grown— _mountain troll_? On your _own_?" There was shock and awe in George's voice.

When Marigold finally finished telling them about her entire first year, having spared no detail, the car went dead quiet. Marigold was waiting with baited breath for either one of them to say something, anything at all. She wasn't sure if she felt better, if it was the uneasy silence or if it might just be too soon to heal.

"I had no idea _that_ was what it was like…" Fred whispered, not looking away from the sky that stretched out in front of him.

Marigold didn't say anything in response. She just continued looking at the same sky.

"No wonder you never want to play chess with Ron," George said.

The three of them let those words sink in for about a second before they burst out laughing.

Marigold felt better.

The rest of the car flight was easy. They only had to duck beneath the clouds three times to get their bearings. The fourth and last time they ducked below the clouds was when they were in Harry's neighborhood trying to figure out just which house was his, then which window he was in.

They were quickly able to identify which window was Harry's, as it had bars over it. Marigold was filled with an intense rage as they peered the headlights into his room.

When the lights hit Harry, Marigold and the twins watched as he mumbled himself awake. When he realized what he was looking at, he rushed to the window and opened it. Marigold rolled down her car window.

"Marigold? What the—how did—"

"All right, Harry?" Fred asked.

"Why haven't you been answering my letters?" Marigold demanded. "There I was going out of my mind with worry when Mr. Weasley told us you had gotten in trouble with the Ministry. And here you have bars on your windows! Bars!" she hissed.

"It wasn't me… how did he know?"

"He works for the Ministry," George said, an air of amusement at Marigold's outburst.

"—and you know we're not supposed to use magic outside of school!" Marigold continued.

"You should talk," Harry said, motioning to the floating car.

"This doesn't count," Fred laughed. " _We_ didn't enchant it. But Marigold's right, doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with…"

"It wasn't me! Look, I can't explain now, it would take too long, could you just tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and I can't magic myself out…"

"Oh hush, Harry. You didn't think we came all the way here just to chitchat? We're here to rescue you!"

"But you can't magic me out either…"

"No need," Fred grinned. "Catch!"

Fred tossed Harry a rope, which Harry proceeded to tie around the bars.

"If the Dursleys wake up, they'll kill me."

"Just stand back," George said.

Marigold watched as Harry disappeared into the back of the room. She held her breath as the car revved louder and louder. With a large crunching noise, the bars were off the window. Marigold and Fred lowered the bars quietly to the ground before dropping the rope.

"Get in!" Marigold insisted.

"But my things, my trunk… my wand…"

"Where?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and I can't get out of this room."

"No problem," George said, crawling catlike through the window and into Harry's room.

"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing how to pick locks like Muggles, but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow. I'll get your stuff. You hand anything you need from your room and pass it to Marigold or Fred."

Marigold watched as George disappeared downstairs; then the three of them got to work, loading up the car with everything Harry could grab. George took a couple trips grabbing things from downstairs, but was quiet enough that the Dursleys weren't disturbed.

Finally, everything was in the car.

Harry was just climbing out the window when they heard a loud screech, followed by a howl from Mr. Dursley.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!"

"How do you forget your owl?"

Harry tore across the bedroom as the landing light clicked on. He snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window, and passed it to Marigold, who was nearly knocked back with the sheer force that Harry had passed it with. Harry was scrambling to the window when Mr. Dursley hammered on the unlocked door, causing it to crash open.

Marigold and the twins didn't wait for the situation to sink in for Mr. Dursley; they quickly grabbed Harry by the arms and yanked him into the car.

"Get us out of here!" Marigold screamed, and Fred stepped on it.

As the three of them hurdled toward the moon, Marigold watched as Harry's hair whipped about and a grin broke out on his face.

"See you next summer!" Harry yelled back, to a red faced Mr. Dursley.

The four of them erupted into a fit of laughter as they disappeared into the night sky.

"Let Hedwig out, she can fly behind us. She hasn't had the chance to stretch her wings for ages."

Marigold passed the cage to George and, seconds later, Hedwig was soaring beside them, looking more like a ghost than an owl.

"So, what's the story, Harry?" Marigold asked, dying to hear the answer.

"Well, I spent a month thinking you guys had forgotten about me," Harry started. "It wasn't until my birthday that I found out what had happened to your letters. So the Dursleys were having a party the night of my birthday and naturally I had to pretend not to exist, so I went up to my bedroom only to find the strangest thing jumping on my bed.

"Turns out a house-elf named Dobby has been keeping my letters from me in hopes that I don't go back to Hogwarts."

"Um, what's a house elf?" Marigold asked, completely bewildered.

"Not sure really, but this one was a really small creature with big ears and ginormous eyes. He was wearing a dirty pillowcase," Harry answered.

"Oh."

"Anyways, apparently it's not safe to go back to Hogwarts, but no matter what I did, he wouldn't tell me why. So, when I refused to stay away from Hogwarts, he used magic to ruin the party by dropping a pudding on one of the dinner guests."

"Very fishy," Fred said.

"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could. Every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

Fred and George exchanged glances.

"Do you think he was lying to me?" Harry asked.

"Well," Fred paused, "house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to keep you from coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," Marigold and Harry said in unison.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained.

"Ah, yes, that would make sense. Lucius Malfoy's boy _would_ hate you…"

"I've heard dad talking about him," George interrupted. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."

"And when You-Know-Who disappeared, Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung… Dad reckons he was right in You-Know-Who's inner circle."

Marigold wasn't at all surprised; if Malfoy's dad was anything like his son, then she could believe it.

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house elf…" Harry sighed.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," Fred said.

"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to help with the chores… well, she was… now she has Marigold," George teased.

"Hey!"

The three of them laughed, easing the mood a bit.  
"Well, I'm glad we came to get you. I've been frantic all summer. Neville isn't any better off, either. We thought the Dursleys were keeping your mail from you. We wouldn't put it past them."

Marigold really wouldn't put anything past them anymore. Bars on Harry's windows, and the cat flap on his door didn't escape her notice… neither did the fact that Harry had seemingly lost all the weight he had put on with the Hogwarts meals. They were starving him there…

Marigold made a mental note to talk to Dumbledore about the situation. There was no way he would allow Harry to stay in a place where he was so obviously being abused.

"So, Fred, George, does your dad know you have the car?" Harry asked, turning from the window.

"Uh, no," Fred answered, tapping on the wheel absentmindedly. "He had to work tonight. We have everything figured out so that we should be back way before anyone wakes up, let alone notices our absence."  
"What does he do for the Ministry, anyway?"

"He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office," Marigold answered.

"The _what_?"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made," George said, turning around in his seat, "you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an old antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare, Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?"

"The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place. One man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic, it's only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office, and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up—"

"But your dad… this car…"

Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles. Our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided _our_ house he'd have to put _himself_ under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

They had ducked down below the clouds again. Marigold could hardly believe it; the main road was beneath them. They had gotten back in record time.

"That's the main road," George said, looking out the window.

"We'll be there in ten minutes. Good thing, too, my eyes are tired," Fred sighed.

"We're a little way outside the village Ottery St. Catchpole," Marigold explained. "You didn't get my letters, but I got a job mowing lawns for the Muggles that live there."

The car touched down a little ways away from the house. Everyone jumped out and pushed it to the garage, passing the lopsided sign reading _The Burrow_ and weaving through a mess of chickens.

Harry wasn't really pushing, but Marigold couldn't blame him; he kept looking at the Burrow with awe.

"It's wonderful," he whispered, causing Fred and George to blush a little.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," Marigold explained. "You will be staying in Fred and George's room. There's a blanket and stuff already set out; they cleaned and everything. I'll go down and help Mrs. Weasley with breakfast, like usual, and I'll tell her you showed up overnight. She'll be happy to see you, and she won't know about our little adventure tonight."

"Right, but I don't think that's going to work out so well…"

"Why not?" Marigold asked.

Fred and George suddenly looked very sick. Knowing the reason, Marigold slowly turned around. Sure enough, a livid looking Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard. Marigold was suddenly worried that her welcome in the Burrow could be coming to an end.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a paisley night robe with a wand sticking out of the pocket.

"So," she said.

"'Morning, Mum," George said cheerily.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" she said in a deadly whisper.

"I'm so sorry, but we had to—" Marigold tried.

All four of them cowered as her rage broke over them.

"Beds empty! A note with no real information! Car gone— could have crashed— out of my mind with worry— did you care? Never, as long as I've lived— you wait until your father get's home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy—"

"Perfect Percy," Fred muttered.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have _died_ , you could have been _seen_ , you could have lost your father his _job_ —"

It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse.

Mrs. Weasley turned on Marigold next, causing her to flinch, expecting a blow. Noticing Marigold's violent reaction, Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and calmed herself.

"Marigold Rosenberg…"

"I am so very sorry, Mrs. Weasley… we planned out everything… we weren't seen…"

"I'm very disappointed."

Marigold hung her head as Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry who backed away.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said. "Come on in and have a snack. Then off to bed, the lot of you."

As Harry stared at everything in the house, Mrs. Weasley bustled about in the kitchen making a quick batch of french toast for a snack. Every once in a while she would throw dirty looks at the twins and Marigold, muttering all the while.

"Of course I don't blame you, dear," she assured Harry as she loaded his plate with toast. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Marigold by Friday."

Marigold was surprised; they had known?

"Of course we knew," Mrs. Weasley said, noticing the look on Marigold's face. "I hand you your mail every morning, do you think I didn't notice that you were only getting half the number of letters you sent out? But, really, flying an illegal car halfway across the country…"

"It was _cloudy_ , Mum!" Fred insisted.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

After their snack, Marigold and the boys were sent off to bed. Instead of the floor and blankets they had set up, Mrs. Weasley put Harry in Charlie's old room, which he was thankful for.

After such a long night, and the knowledge that she would only have four and a half hours to sleep, Marigold was happy to crawl in bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep. She had a dream about a crashing car and a crying Mrs. Weasley, but when she woke up, she didn't remember a thing.

Marigold woke up and helped with breakfast like usual. When Ginny came down and saw Harry at the breakfast table, she ran upstairs again. Marigold made a feeble excuse for her, all the while knowing the real reason she ran away.

Breakfast was eventful for about two minutes. Ron wanted to know how Harry had shown up, and Fred and George immediately started rambling out the story. But with one hard glare from their mother, the story came to an abrupt end.

After breakfast, Harry went out to de-gnome the garden with Fred, George, and Ron. Marigold helped clear dishes instead. She had de-gnomed the garden before and had been bitten; she wasn't excited to do that again.

Just as Marigold had finished wiping down the table, Mr. Weasley walked in the door. Without a word he collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. He had just taken off his glasses and closed his eyes when the boys rushed in.

Marigold passed Mr. Weasley the teapot he was blindly groping for as the boys took their seats at the table again. Marigold took her seat next to Harry.

"What a night," he mumbled, rubbing his temples. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when my back was turned."

He took a sip from his tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" Ron asked eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle. There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't in my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness…"

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" George asked.

"Just Muggle-baiting," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it… Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking—they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face. But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe…"

"LIKE CARS FOR INSTANCE?"

Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.

"C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars," Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while _really_ he was enchanting it to make it _fly_."

Mr. Weasley blinked.

"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that… There's a loophole in the law, you'll find… As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't—"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure that there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in that car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry?" Mr. Weasley said blankly. "Harry who?"

He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.

"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Marigold's—"

 _"_ _These three flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!"_ Mrs. Weasley shouted, pointing to Marigold and the twins. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. "Did it go all right? I— I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that—that was very wrong…"

"Let's go," Marigold muttered to Harry, as Mrs. Weasley turned red in the face.

Marigold and Harry escaped the kitchen just in time; Marigold led the way to her room.

When they got there Marigold shut the door, which put a buffer between them and the loud voice of Mrs. Weasley. Marigold flopped down on her bed while Harry sat at her desk.

"I haven't gotten the chance to say it, with all the commotion, but, happy birthday, Harry," Marigold said after a few moments.

"You too, Marigold. I'm sorry, but I didn't get you anything," he said, looking at his hands.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I haven't gotten you anything yet either. We haven't been to Diagon Alley yet, so I haven't been able to get anything for you or Neville. And speaking of Neville, we're going to his house this Saturday to celebrate."

Harry looked up, excitement in his eyes.

"Really? Like a party?"

"I mean, it's just going to be the three of us and his Gran, but yeah. He told me that he was going to plan everything out himself, so that should be something."

"Definitely something," Harry agreed with a smile.

Marigold and Harry spent the rest of the day catching up. Marigold figured it would be best not to mention the letter she got from her father for her birthday, deciding she would bring that up at a better time.

They only stopped talking when Mrs. Weasley called them down for dinner, at which, Mrs. Weasley, not so subtly, gave Harry extra helpings.

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I apologize for taking so long to post. Again, please read the other two stories if you haven't already. Please leave reviews, I love hearing from you!)


	2. It's My Party, I'll Cry if I Want to

(A/N: Sorry it took so long to post. I'm back in school, and work is taking up my time too. But yes, I am still writing on this story, so I will try to get things out as soon as they are written and edited. Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Harry fit right in at the Burrow. Marigold could tell he was enjoying his newfound freedom almost as much as she had. Whenever she mowed lawns down in the Muggle town, Harry would tag along and spend the day wandering around town. Marigold traded him some of her Muggle money for his wizarding money, so he could buy ice cream and other treats.

When they weren't in town, the two of them spent time with Fred and George. Harry also got along with Ron (to Marigold's slight dismay, since they just played chess all the time).

Ginny was like a little mouse, running away at the mere sight of Harry. Marigold spent time talking with Ginny in her room whenever Harry and Ron were busy playing chess in the living room. Ginny never confessed her crush on Harry, and Marigold didn't bother her about it.

Mr. Weasley seemed very fond of Harry, asking him every question about Muggles he could think of. Marigold had been asked similar questions, and it was amusing to see Harry now fumbling for answers.

Mrs. Weasley was the best of all; no matter what meal, she would pile Harry's plate up so full that he could barely finish. It wasn't just meals, either; any chance she got, she fed Harry. Marigold didn't know that her respect for Mrs. Weasley could have risen any higher, but she had been wrong.

It was two days after their adventure when Marigold received a reply from Neville.

 _Marigold Rosenberg,_

 _Why can't you tell me? You better not have done anything illegal!_

 _If everything worked out as planned… hi, Harry._

 _Don't worry about writing me back, since I'll be seeing you on Saturday anyway. I planned everything, so it should be a blast._

 _See you soon,_

 _Neville_

 _P.S. Gran wanted me to tell you to tell Mr. Weasley that our fireplaces aren't hooked up to the network right now (I don't know why) so you will have to apparate here. Sorry for the trouble._

When Saturday finally dawned, Marigold and Harry woke up very excited. The party at Neville's was to be a sleepover, so they weren't leaving until Mr. Weasley got off work at seven.

The day couldn't have passed by any slower. Both Harry and Marigold kept looking at the large clock in the kitchen; they checked it so often that Mrs. Weasley had to ban them from the room entirely. They spent most of the day in Harry's room (Bill's old room), talking about anything and everything.

At seven they rushed downstairs, overnight bags in hand, hoping to see Mr. Weasley walk through the door. As the minutes crept by, they got antsier and antsier, until half an hour later when Mr. Weasley finally arrived.

Seeing their excitement at his return, he didn't bother changing from his work clothes; he simply stuck out his arm.

"Alright, grab my arm and we'll head out."

Knowing what to expect, Marigold took a hold of his outstretched arm. The moment Harry grabbed on, Marigold felt herself being pressed from all sides and contorted as they traveled. Her stomach whirled and her chest felt like she was being hugged too tight. Just when she felt like she couldn't handle any more, the squeezing stopped. Her stomach rolled and she fought the urge to throw up. She had completely forgotten to tell Harry what it felt like to apparate, so when he puked after they arrived, she felt quite bad.

As Harry recovered, Marigold was finally able to look at the house in front of her. It was rather large, but homey looking. There were two stories, and the second story had a large oval window smack in the center. There were several types of flowering plants creeping up the side of the house, several of which wrapped around the oval window. It was dark out, but Marigold was sure the house was a light blue. The windows on the first story were square with pale white shutters that almost glowed in the moonlight, and under each one were little shelves with potted plants on them.

Marigold could tell the house had been around for a long time, but the house itself didn't look old. The paint seemed to be new, and the windows were clean, even the ornate door, with it's ivy looking carvings, looked freshly painted.

Marigold knew Neville's family was an old wizarding family, and she wondered how long the house had belonged to them. They walked in through the hedges and up the pavement toward the ornate door.

Mr. Weasley knocked, and Harry and Marigold waited in anticipation. After a few seconds, Mrs. Longbottom answered the door and ushered them inside. The front room was brightly lit. Marigold and Harry were directed to put their coats in a large wardrobe; they had a little trouble, as it was full of expensive and outrageous looking coats. Their shoes had to be taken off and placed neatly in a cupboard under the stairs, which Harry thought was rather large.

Mrs. Longbottom herself was wearing the most ridiculous of the coats, a rather large wooly thing that must have been on a sheep no less than an hour ago. She must have dressed up for the company, seeing as it was rather warm in the house, being summer and all. She had the smallest hat perched up on her put up hair, it was about the size of Marigold's fist.

She informed Harry and Marigold that Neville was in his room on the second story. The two of them didn't wait for Mr. Weasley to leave; they simply thanked him and dashed off.

They found Neville behind the first door on the second floor. He was organizing a pile of exploding snap, straightening a bowl of cauldron cakes, and dashing around the room like a mad man. It was a rather large room, and there was a desk in the corner with all his books and school supplies scattered about. Trevor had a tank on a table in the corner opposite. Neville's bed had a canopy almost exactly like the ones at Hogwarts, as if he had stolen the crimson drapes and used them as his own. Marigold stopped examining the room as Neville caught sight of the two of them standing in the doorway.

"Marigold! Harry!" He exclaimed, rushing to hug them both. "Happy birthday, you two."

"You too, Neville," Harry said, beaming.

"Harry, we were so worried about you! I'm glad you're okay. And Marigold, traveling across the country on a daring rescue mission? Tell me everything."

The three of them sat down on the floor, and Marigold told Neville the story of how she and the twins stole the car and flew to get Harry. When Harry's part of the story came in, he piped up, but Neville didn't say anything until they were done.

"I'm pretty sure nobody would've known until I didn't show up for the Hogwarts Express, but... my gran would _kill_ me if I ever did that."

"I wasn't expecting to get caught, but when we did, I was sure Mr. Weasley would be missing a couple kids when he went to the platform because for a minute there I could have sworn Mrs. Weasley was going to kill us." Marigold giggled.

"But she seemed more upset with Mr. Weasley than she was with us," Harry said, laughing.

After playing a few games of exploding snap, Neville decided enough was enough: it was time for presents. Marigold had been waiting to go to Diagon Alley to get them their gifts, so she felt bad for not having anything. Harry didn't have anything to give either of them because he, too, was waiting for Diagon Alley.

"I don't care, you can give me your presents on the train or something. I want to see you open these up," Neville said, reaching under the bed to grab two poorly wrapped gifts.

No offence to Neville's wrapping skills, but the gifts looked slapped together at the last minute. However, Marigold thought the paper was amazing. The wrapping paper had little cartoon brooms that zoomed all over a blue stationary. Some kept disappearing into the folds only to reappear seconds later on the other side of the gift.

Harry went first, ripping through the paper. Inside was a pair of socks. Worried that Harry didn't like the gift, Neville quickly explained that they were enchanted so they couldn't get wet and soggy, and that they would be perfect for Quidditch. Harry was overjoyed.

Marigold went next, carefully unwrapping the broomstick-covered wrapping paper. Inside of a long, thin box, she found a beautiful silver chain.

"It's for your locket. It's bewitched so that it never gets tangled."

Marigold was ecstatic; she had tinkered with the chain so much over the summer that she was thinking of leaving it behind when she went to Hogwarts. She quickly removed her locket and the ring from the Weasleys and switched them over to the new chain.

"It's beautiful, Neville. Thank you!"

"So, Neville, What do you have in store for us next?" Harry asked.

"Well, I've never really had a sleepover," Neville said, blushing. "I thought exploding snap would last longer."

"Well it was _you_ who wanted to stop playing and open presents." Marigold said laughing.

"Well, I was excited."

"There's a Muggle game called truth or dare... It's a Muggle game, and I've never played it, but Dudley has," Harry suggested.

Marigold wasn't very keen on the idea, but she had anticipated something like this happening. She had hard the girls talking in the dormitories at Hogwarts, and apparently secret trading was indeed something that happened at sleepovers. So, she agreed.

"Lets start off easy," Harry said. "Truth or dare?"

Marigold pondered for a moment before choosing. "Dare."

"Okay, I dare you to sing the Hogwarts song," Harry decided.

"What? Come on!"

"You picked dare, Marigold," Neville said, coming to Harry's defense.

"Fine... _Hogwarts, Hogwarts. Hoggy Warty Hogwarts. Teach us something please, whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees, our heads could do with filling, with some interesting stuff, for now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff, so teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn until out brains all rot!_ "

By the time she was done squeaking her way through the song, Neville and Harry were rolling on the floor laughing. Blushing, Marigold grabbed a pumpkin pastie.

"So, Harry," Neville said, a mischievous grin on her face, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." He said it quickly, obviously not wanting to have to embarrass himself with a dare.

"If you could jinx Snape without getting caught, what jinx would you use?"

"Oh, that's tough. Honestly, I don't think I'd jinx him, I'd rather just punch him in his large nose like Marigold did."

"Yeah, it's a shame I don't really remember doing that. It was definitely one of the year's highlights."

"Truth or dare, Neville?" Marigold asked.

"Dare?"

"I dare you, to… kiss Trevor!"

"That's gross!" Neville exclaimed.

"But how do you know he's not your price charming?" Marigold teased.

Neville groaned and went over to kiss Trevor. Nothing happened of course, but Neville went to brush his teeth for five minutes.

"You suck, Marigold," Neville said when he returned.

"I'm hurt," Marigold said, putting a hand on her heart. "I only wanted you to find your one and only, _your true love_."

Harry and Marigold burst out laughing.

"Fine, truth or dare, Marigold?"

"Dare!"

"I dare _you_ to kiss Trevor."

"Come on, no repeats!"

The game continued on, the three of them taking turns telling the truth or doing something ridiculous. Harry had to eat one of the Bertie Bots beans that Neville had stashed, hidden from his grandmother, under his bed. It nearly broke Harry's tooth.

Neville had to stuff as many cauldron cakes into his mouth as he could; he managed three, with much difficulty. As a result, his face looked three times larger than usual. Marigold was reminded of a chipmunk.

Marigold had to tell them which professor would go on a date with if he had to, he said he thought professor Sprout had a great personality.

Marigold also lost a couple more times, she had to sneak down to the coat closet and grab one of Neville's grandmothers' coats and hat. It was way too big, much too fluffy, and she looked ridiculous. Neville and Harry couldn't stifle their laughter, and when they heard Mrs. Longbottom coming down from her room, they frantically threw everything back in the wardrobe and hid until they couldn't hear her anymore.

Neville had to drink a little bit of firewhisky, so they had to sneak back downstairs and go to the kitchen; it was horrid. And he felt a little loopy for a while afterword. Which Harry and Marigold found absolutely hilarious, seeing as he was bumping into things and clumsier than usual.

"Truth or dare?" Harry asked Neville. Who had, after a few rounds, sobered up.

"Truth."

"Who do you like?"

"Harry, that's not—"

Mrs. Longbottom chose that moment to appear in the room, causing Marigold and Harry to groan. Luckily for Neville, she told them it was time to go to bed. She conjured up to small mattresses and some blankets then left the room. Not wanting to upset the stern witch, the three of them got ready for bed. When they were in bed, Mrs. Longbottom came back and told them that the light was not to turn on, and they were to go promptly to sleep.

They lasted nearly three minutes before Harry announced that he wasn't tired. Harry and Marigold stuffed their sheets under the covers of their beds, so if Mrs. Longbottom looked in she would think they were asleep, then hopped onto Neville's bed. Neville closed the curtains, and the three of them sat in the dark trying to see each other.

The conversation started off light, how they couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts, and how next year was going to be great, so on and so forth. But like all late night conversations, it had to get dark.

"Do you think this year will be like last year?" Neville asked.

"I don't think so, I mean, what are the odds Voldemort or his minions try to kill me every year?" Harry answered.

"Yeah it should be fine," Marigold agreed.

They were quiet for a while. Marigold wondered if Voldemort or his minions would come back. She knew they probably would come back, just a matter of when.

"I still can't sleep," Neville admitted quietly, breaking the silence.

"Me either."

"Same here." Marigold sighed.

"I keep waking up expecting to be in the hospital wing," Neville said.

Marigold felt the same way.

"I have scars," Marigold said.

"Really?" Harry asked.

Marigold rolled up her leg to reveal a jagged scar on her knee. "I don't remember how it happened, but I assume it happened during the fight with the troll. It's the reason for the limp though."

"Wow, that's cool."

"That's insensitive, Harry," Neville corrected.

"Sorry."

"It's fine, it _is_ a pretty cool scar."

"We never really got the chance to talk about what happened…" Neville trailed off. "I mean, we talked about what happened in the hospital wing, but we didn't talk about it really… do you know what I mean?"

"No?" Harry said, bewildered.

"I think I do," Marigold said. "But I don't really know what to say."

It seemed that neither Neville nor Harry knew what to say either. Marigold could remember everything as if it had just happened. She had made a lot of choices that night, most of which were stupid and reckless and wrong.

"Neville, I am so sorry—"

"For the chess game? What could you have done?" he asked, cutting her off. "We needed to get to the stone and you got us there. You made the right call."

"I should have found another way to win the game. I should have done something, anything other than what I did…"

"Marigold I can't begin to understand what you were going through during that game. Mostly because I don't understand the game well enough to. But I do remember that you did your best to both keep us out of the line of fire, as well as win the game."

"Neville, she sacrificed you," Harry whispered, reminding them he was still there. The words hurt, but they were true.

"Yeah, but I mean it was the call to make, what other choice was there?" Neville said, a little defensively.

"Like literally any other choice, Nev." Harry was a little worked up. Marigold remembered how angry he had been when she had made the choice. He never said anything, but she knew he was mad. He must have been waiting, seething for a while. "We could have…"

"What? Waited for another opportunity? I'm pretty sure we were losing the game up until then. We had like four other pieces, Harry."

"Yeah, and we all saw what the white pieces did to us when they took us out. She could have killed you Neville."

"Harry it wasn't that bad, and I mean, we won…"

"Wasn't that bad? Neville that blow broke your sternum and several ribs, the only reason you didn't die is because she had that internal bleeding potion thing."

Marigold's heart stopped.

"Harry you promised you would never bring that up with Marigold."

"Yeah, well, she deserves to know. Marigold, you deserve to know that you nearly killed Neville with that _justifiable_ decision you made."

Marigold stopped breathing.

"That's not fair, Harry."

"Why are you so okay with this?"

"Because I trust her, okay? I trusted that she made the right call! I believed in getting you across, getting you to the stone, stopping Snape from bringing back You-Know-Who. I was willing to do whatever it took to keep that from happening, I made that decision before we even left the Gryffindor common room. Besides, I could have said no."

Marigold's eyes were going out of focus and she was really dizzy.

"You don't sacrifice your friends though. That's just something you don't do!"

"Don't you think I would have done something else if I could have?" Marigold whimpered. "Don't I get the benefit of the doubt? I was playing a giant chess game with pieces that could kill us at every turn. And just so you know, we were losing. So, do you really think I made that decision lightly? It killed me, okay? I have hated myself since I did it. It was inexcusable. Friends don't sacrifice friends; I know that. But what was I supposed to do, Harry? Please, tell me what I was supposed to do." Marigold was having trouble breathing; everything was garbled and hardly understandable.

Harry was silent. Neville was silent. Marigold was doing her best not to pass out.

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"I didn't either. I would have done anything not to have made that call. It's something I'm going to have to live with for the rest of my life. And I don't expect either of you to forgive me, because I don't forgive me. But Neville, I am so sorry I nearly killed you. And Harry, I'm sorry I betrayed your trust. I-I'll go wake up your gran and ask her to take me home."

Marigold turned to get off the bed, but Harry grabbed her hand and stopped her. He didn't say anything, but she didn't make any more effort to get up. They stayed like that, in silence, long enough for Marigold's breathing to go somewhat back to normal. Harry's hands were warm.

"I don't hate you," Harry whispered, breaking the tense silence. "I didn't understand how you could have made that decision. I was wrapped up in the fact that you made it, I didn't really think too much on why you had to. I still don't think it was the right call, but… but I'm no longer angry with you. And I forgive you."

"I do too," Neville added.

Marigold broke down. Neville quickly scotched over to her and wrapped his arm around her. Harry appeared seconds later. It was a long cry.

"You know, when I suggested we talk about that night, I wasn't really thinking we would be discussing this first," Neville said. "I mean, I knew it would happen eventually, but, honestly, I thought we were goanna talk about how heroic I was with the Devil's Snare first."

"Or the fact that you gave Marigold a really cool nickname," Harry agreed.

Within moments, they were all laughing, sprawled out on Neville's gigantic bed. It was as if they had never fought at all. Things were good.

They stayed up talking about nothing for a while, lying down just looking at the canopy. Unlike the last fight she had had with Harry, this time there was no residual tension. She still felt bad of course, but it was nice for things to finally be settled.

They talked about Hogwarts more, about their classmates, classes, everything. They complained about Snape, and Professor McGonagall, for separate reasons obviously. Marigold went in detail about what she would do if Snape kept picking on them. Harry talked about how he respected Professor McGonagall.

Marigold told them about how looking at the canopy reminded her of the old faded stars she had on the ceiling of her room back when she lived with her dad. They all agreed that the canopy was much better.

Marigold didn't know what time it was, and she didn't really care. They just kept talking and talking. So, she didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she was jolting awake from a nightmare.

At some point in time, one of the guys had grabbed a blanket, so she was all toasty warm underneath it.

"Are you awake, Goldie?" Neville's whisper nearly gave her a heart attack.

"Yeah, sorry, did I wake you up?"

"No, I woke up a bit ago… nightmare," he answered sheepishly.

"Ah, same here."

"Listen to Harry."

Marigold turned over and saw Harry sprawled out, face first, somehow simultaneously snoring and drooling onto the bed.

"He's drooling onto your bed," Marigold laughed.

"Is he really?"

"Yeah!"

They were quiet for a little while, Marigold wondered if Neville fell back asleep.

"You still awake?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" Marigold asked, knowing the answer.

"Your nightmare?"

"Oh, sure, it was the standard one as of late. I'm fighting the troll but the troll keeps screaming at me with Snape's voice, but it has my dad's face. I keep trying to get away, like I did, but every time I get close to the door, it attacks me again."

"Well that's really messed up."

"Agreed. How about you? What was yours?"

Neville didn't answer right away; but when he did, his voice sounded strained, like he had started crying but didn't want her to know. She wanted to look over at him to see, but she figured he would rather she didn't.

"You would think my nightmare would be about the chess game, right? Well, it's actually the Devil's Snare. I watch as the vines strangle you and Harry, and I try as hard as I can to think of how to save you, but I can never remember. So you guys both die, then seconds later I remember that fire kills it, but by then it's too late. Then I wake up."

"That's really heavy."

Marigold felt Neville nod.

"Marigold?"

"Yeah, Neville?"

"I know I've already asked this, but, do you think this year will be like last year?"

"I've been wondering. Harry made light of it earlier, but I honestly don't know. It's very possible that Voldemort could come back again. I mean, when I woke up, Dumbledore and I had a conversation. He seems to think that Voldemort will come back..."

"Does he?" Neville sounded surprised.

"Yeah. And I have a feeling that since we have Harry as our friend we will be having more years like this last one. So to answer your question, I don't know if it will be this year, but I think we will be having years like last year, they may be worse too. But if that comes along with being Harry's friend, I think it's worth it."

"Me too."

Marigold looked over at Neville, he was staring at the canopy. She couldn't really see him all that well, even though her eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness, but he looked lost in thought.

She was starting to doze off, and keeping herself awake was getting more and more difficult.

"Nev?"

He turned to look at her.

"I really am sorry I nearly killed you."

"I told Harry not to mention that," he sighed. "As soon as Madam Pomfrey told me, I knew it would eat you up inside if I told you, I really shouldn't have told Harry, but I thought he wouldn't say—"

"I'm actually glad I was told. I learned a valuable lesson about leadership… so…"

"I forgive you, you know. I'll tell you until you both believe me, and forgive yourself."

"You know, Nev, I'm really glad we are friends. I couldn't have asked for better friends than you and Harry." She was falling asleep rather quickly. "You are the best, best friends a girl could ask for."

"I couldn't be happier being you're friend."

Marigold closed her eyes, just for a second.

"You know, as mean as it is to say, I'm glad you lost Trevor your first day."

"As mean as it is to say, I am too."

Marigold was drifting off to sleep.

"Good night, Goldie."

"Good night, Nev," she mumbled, before promptly falling asleep.

(A/N: Thank you everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this latest installment. A quick thank you to Hawkie81 for a kick in the pants and the motivation to work through the writer's block that has been plaguing me for months. Stay tuned for the next chapter, an adventure in Diagon Alley.)


	3. Glamorous Smiles and Dirty Fistfights

(A/N: Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.

Neville's grandmother came in around ten o'clock to wake them up. She wasn't very pleased that all three of them were on Neville's bed; she made it very clear that her and her grandson would have a talk once Harry and Marigold had left. Neville was bright red by the time she was done chastising him. Even Harry's face looked a little pink. Marigold, however, didn't see what the big deal was. They were having a sleepover anyway; did it really matter that they had passed out in the same bed?

Either way, after a rather large and messy breakfast of toast, eggs, and sausage, which the three of them made themselves, Marigold, Harry, and Neville waited around for Mrs. Weasley to arrive. They talked about all the silly things they had to do last night, whispering in hushed tones when it came to Neville having to drink some of the Firewhiskey and how Marigold had to try on some of Mrs. Longbottom's crazy clothes. They hardly even noticed when Mrs. Weasley showed up.  
Mrs. Longbottom ushered Mrs. Weasley into the kitchen, and a few minutes later, Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen looking rather pink in the face. Marigold and Harry bid Neville a quick goodbye, promising to meet up with him when they went back to school shopping at Diagon Alley.

When they got back home, Harry handled the appirating much better than before. When they walked in, the two of them went to unpack their things. A few minutes after she had finished putting her belongings away, Marigold heard a knock at her door.

Mrs. Weasley came in, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Um, Marigold. Neville's grandmother… Mrs. Longbottom, told me about this morning. How you and the boys slept together."

Marigold sat down on her bed, Mrs. Weasley hesitated but accepted Marigold's invitation to join her.

"Seeing as Harry is, well, a boy… and not my ward… it's not really my place to talk to him. You however…"

"I don't really understand the problem."

"Well, I would assume not. Seeing as, well—"

"Seeing as I didn't have friends growing up?"

"Well, yes…" Mrs. Weasley confessed, rather uncomfortable still. "You just turned twelve, and, well I can understand that boys are…"

"Oh goodness, no, Merlin no. Harry and Neville are great, but it's not like that for any of us. We're just friends. We just stayed up late… talking about Hogwarts, and ended up passing out."

Mrs. Weasley breathed a sigh of relief. "Hogwarts, huh?"

"Yeah… we finally had a talk about what happened last year… it was much needed."

"I see. I suppose the three of you are doing better?"

"Yes, it was rough there for a bit, but we made up." Marigold shrugged.

"I've been meaning to ask you how you were doing, but you seem better," Mrs. Weasley admitted.

"You were?" Marigold was surprised.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled. "Well, to be honest with you, Marigold, there is little that goes on in this house that I don't know, side from the goings on in Fred and George's room. So I knew you weren't doing very well. I didn't know the specifics until recently. Now, don't think they were betraying your trust, but Fred and George told me about what happened, they wanted to know how to help you."

Marigold didn't know what to say. She certainly didn't think they would tell anyone when she told them; but the fact that they told Mrs. Weasley somehow made her feel happy. Maybe it was because they cared so much to ask how to help her.

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. I think I could help, but I wont unless you want me to. I don't have experience with what happened with you, but I do have some experiences that I think could help."

"You do?" Marigold's interest was peaked.

"My brothers were a part of the war against You-Know-Who. I heard a lot of their stories, before…" Mrs. Weasley trailed off, looking quite sad. "Their situations aren't similar; however, how we deal with these things, is. So, if you ever need anyone, my dear, I'm here."

Marigold only nodded. She didn't really know what to say.

A few days later, Harry and Marigold were sitting at the breakfast table; Ginny was crouched under the table, hurriedly cleaning up a bowl of porridge that she had toppled over the moment they had entered the room. Harry had pretended not to notice, but Marigold knew her constant klutziness confused him. She hoped that Ginny would get over her awkwardness, Marigold was sure the two of them would get along well.

Mr. Weasley entered the room, holding a stack of letters. He passed each of them a letter, addressed in green ink. Hogwarts letters! Marigold and Harry quickly opened their letters. Marigold found the most important information on the last page.

Second-Year Students Will Require:

 _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ by Miranda Goshawk

 _Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Wanderings with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

 _Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

Fred, who had finished his own list, looked around at everyone else's and noticed that everyone was told to buy the books.

"The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan," he said, "bet it's a witch." He shut up quickly when Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

"That lot won't come cheap," George said, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive…"

"Well, we'll manage," Mrs. Weasley said, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."

"I discussed going to Diagon Alley with Augusta Longbottom," Mr. Weasley piped up. "She said she would bring Neville when we decide to go, so we planned on Wednesday."

Marigold couldn't wait.

Early Wednesday morning, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up. They had a quick breakfast, and then got ready to go. They crowded around the kitchen fireplace and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantle-piece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today… Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!"

She offered him the flowerpot, at which he just stared, confused.

"He's never traveled by Floo powder," Marigold said, suddenly realizing why he was so confused. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

"Never?" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley got buy your school things last year?"

"I went on the Underground—"

"Really?" Mr. Weasley asked, eagerly. "Were there _escapators_? How exactly—"

"Not now, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before—"

"He'll be fine, Mum," Fred said. "Harry, watch us first."

They all watched as Fred took a pinch of the glittering powder, and threw it into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped into it.

"Diagon Alley!" Fred shouted, before promptly vanishing.

"You must speak clearly, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right gate."

"The right what?" Harry asked nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight too.

"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly—"

"He'll be fine, Molly, don't fuss," Mr. Weasley said.

"But how would we ever explain this to his aunt and uncle if he got lost?"

"They wouldn't mind," Harry reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney; don't worry about that."

"I'll go first, Harry. To make sure you make it." Marigold said, grabbing some of the Floo powder. "Just don't stress too much; you got this."

Marigold stepped up to the fire, threw in the powder, and stepped in. she had forgotten just how much soot was involved, but she managed to call out Diagon Alley. Marigold felt her stomach drop as she took off. The roaring in her ears was deafening, and the spinning was nauseating. The fire didn't burn her, but it was definitely uncomfortably warm. She hoped Harry would be ok.

When the spinning stopped, she found herself in the Leaky Cauldron, covered in soot, and very, very dizzy.

"Who's next?" Fred asked as he and George helped her dust off the best they could.

"Harry," she coughed.

They waited longer than it should have taken for Harry to show up. When the fire lit up, they all breathed a sigh of relief. But when Mr. Weasley stepped out, Marigold started worrying all over again.

"What happened to Harry," she asked.

"Oh no, I was hoping he made it."

"What happened?" she asked again.

"He choked on the soot and garbled his words," Mr. Weasley answered.

The other's arrived one by one. Each time the fire erupted, Marigold got more and more anxious. Finally, Mrs. Weasley arrived.

"He's not here, is he?" she asked.

"No, he's not. Hopefully he only went one gate too far," Mr. Weasley replied.

"What do we do?" Marigold asked.

"Split up and look for him, I suppose," Mrs. Weasley answered.

"Right, Fred, George, you go looking with Marigold," Mr. Weasley said. "And no going in Knockturn Alley."

"But what if that's where Harry is?" George protested.

"Absolutely not," Mr. Weasley snapped.

Fred and George grumbled a lot, but the three of them headed out of the Leaky Cauldron and onto the busy alley street. Once they were out of sight from the Weasleys, the three of them took off toward Knockturn alley.

"Was there any chance we _weren'_ t going to Knockturn alley?" Marigold asked, as they quickly weaved in and out of the witches and wizards.

"You're kidding right?" Fred laughed.

"Fair enough."

A little ways in the distance, Marigold saw a familiar face looming over everyone else.

"Guys?" She pointed to the large figure.

"Right!"

They ran faster, hoping to get a little help from their friend.

"Hagrid!" Marigold panted, having run out of breath. "Have you seen—oh my goodness, Harry!"

"Hey, Marigold," Harry answered.

He was covered in soot, a little bruised, and his glasses were broken, but he was okay.

"Thank goodness we found you, Marigold was going crazy with worry," Fred said.

"Where were you?" Marigold demanded.

"Some shop in Knockturn Alley."

"Knew it!" George said, grinning.

"If it weren't for Hagrid here, I surely would have gotten lost."

"Weren' no trouble," he said, patting Harry on the back making him lurch forward.

"Well, we should really go meet up with the rest of the family," George said.

"You're welcome to come too, Hagrid," Marigold said.

The four of them made their way back to the leaky cauldron, where they met an agitated Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. When the two of them saw Harry, they rushed over. Mrs. Weasley frantically dusted him off, tutting about how she should have given better instructions and how she was so happy he was okay. Mr. Weasley fixed Harry's glasses with a tap of his wand.

"Well, gotta be off," Hagrid said. Marigold was sure he was uncomfortable with how much praise he was getting from Mrs. Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). "See year at Hogwarts!"

Hagrid strode away; he was not quite able to disappear into the crowd, seeing as he was head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street.

"Well, now that Harry's back, all we have left to do is wait for Mrs. Longbottom and Neville to show up," Mrs. Weasley said, fussing over Harry a little bit more.

Everyone took a seat at one of the large tables in the Leaky Cauldron. Fred, George, and Ron kept asking harry how Knockturn Alley was. Harry just told them it was dark, dirty, creepy, and that the people that went there were no good. Ginny was listening, but she was doing her best to look occupied.

When Neville and his grandmother showed up, everyone took off for Gringotts bank. Harry quickly filled Neville in on what happened, but he also had more to tell the two of them. They hung back, giving them enough space so that they could talk, but also look like they weren't up to anything.

"Draco Malfoy and his dad were there," Harry said.

"There where, you didn't exactly tell us _where_ you showed up in Knockturn Alley?" Marigold asked.

"Right, well I flew out of a fireplace in a dimly lit, creepy looking shop, Borgin and Burks. It had all sorts of weird knickknacks; like a bloody pack of playing cards, a hand on a cushion that I would bet ten galleons was real, there were even human bones!"

"What?" Neville gasped.

"I know! So I was on my way out of the store when Draco Malfoy and his father came sauntering in. I hid inside a large black cabinet and luckily neither of them saw me. The store owner appeared, and I kid you not, out of nowhere; he was doing his best to please Mr. Malfoy.

"But Mr. Malfoy wouldn't buy anything; he said he was selling. They started talking about the raids the Ministry has been conducting, and about Mr. Weasley. Malfoy and his dad argued a lot, they talked a lot about Hermione and about you, Marigold. Apparently the two of you have the highest grades, which bothers his dad because Malfoy is apparently doing poorly in school. Eventually Mr. Malfoy had haggled all he could, and everyone left, then I was able to escape."

"I wonder what Mr. Malfoy has that could shake him up so much that he would want to sell it?" Neville pondered.

"Well, knowing the Malfoys, I would assume nothing good," Marigold said.

"What's not good about the Malfoys?" Mr. Weasley asked, having appeared right beside them at some point.

"I saw Mr. Malfoy and his son in Borgin and Burkes," Harry said, just as surprised as Marigold at how Mr. Weasley had showed up so suddenly.

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Mr. Weasley demanded.

"No, he was selling—"

"So he's worried," Mr. Weasley said, with grim satisfaction. "Oh I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something…"

"You be careful, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley snapped, from up ahead, apparently having been listening.

The two of them started squabbling as they entered Gringotts bank. Neville went off with his grandmother and a goblin to go to their vault. Marigold and Harry accompanied another goblin and the Weasleys to their vaults. Marigold, who had received her key last year, and had put it in her room at the Burrow, had had to find it early before heading to Diagon Alley. Now it was in the small Peruvian Vipertooth, dragon hide pouch she had received for her birthday from Charlie. The pouch also contained all the Muggle money she had received from mowing lawns.

They stopped by her vault first, she had never visited it, but it was a small door no bigger than that of a safe. When she looked inside she found all the funds for her seven years at Hogwarts, divided into six pouches. As she grabbed the one labeled two, she wondered who had divided all the money. She was sure to find all the money she needed for this year, plus some for extra curricular expenses.

They then went to the Weasley vault. Marigold felt her heart sink when she saw its contents. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one Gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag.

Marigold wondered, not for the first time, if her staying in the Weasleys care was putting too much of a burden on them. As her father always told her, taking care of kids was expensive and it wasn't always worth it.

When they got to Harry's vault, Harry tried his best to hide the mountains of coins behind his door. He quickly shoveled handfuls of coins into a leather bag. Marigold knew how he felt.

When they got back to the entryway of Gringotts, everyone sort of dispersed into the heavy crowd. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley headed off in one direction, while everyone else kind of disappeared. After giving Neville a small pouch of coins, Mrs. Longbottom muttered something about new robes and left. Eventually it was just Marigold, Harry, and Neville, who had been waiting with his grandmother when they arrived.

Mrs. Weasley didn't fail to leave them with instructions, however. They were all to meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy their schoolbooks. They were also not to step one toe into Knockturn Alley.

"I have some money to exchange, then we can head off," Marigold said, taking her Muggle money out of her pouch.

Marigold originally had no intention of using the money, simply wanting to save it up. However, she had birthday presents to get for the boys.

The three of them wandered around Diagon Alley, bags of coins jingling, wanting to be spent. Harry bought the three of them raspberry and chocolate ice cream cones, which they happily ate as they peered into windows.

They bought their school supplies first, giving them extra time to wander around. Marigold wanted to spend some more time in the Apothecary, but Neville couldn't handle the smell, so they left.

They found a joke shop where they met up with Fred and George and their friend Lee Jordan. The three of them were stocking up on No-Heat Fireworks. Marigold got Harry's present there after watching him goggle at the Snitch Snatcher!, a board game that simulated a game of Quidditch.

On their way to Flourish and Blotts, Marigold stopped by a street vendor whose cart had all sorts of plants on it. It looked like a small square jungle right in the middle of Diagon Alley. All sorts of plants were growing off it. The small canopy that hung over the potted plants had little flowers that almost looked sewn on. It wasn't until she got closer that she realized the canopy was made from the strange flowers. The little wheels on the cart had prickly vines wrapped around the spokes.

Marigold told Harry to keep Neville busy while she talked to the vendor. Marigold knew that Neville liked plants; he had confessed during the birthday party that he had planted some of the flowers in the window boxes. The vendor had a lot of enchanted plants a few plants that were inherently magical. Marigold looked at all the plants, going round and round the cart trying to find the perfect one. A few of them were so pretty that she had to remind herself that she was here to buy something for Neville, not herself.

She finally found her gift, after circling the cart so much she was dizzy. She had almost missed it because it was so small. Inside a small pot, no bigger than her hand, was a small tiger lily. It had petals that looked like they were on fire they were so orange. Whenever she moved, it turned to follow her. When she cocked her head in confusion, the flower moved to imitate her. Most importantly, and amazingly, when she went to pick it up, it growled at her.

Seeing her interest in the tiger lily, the vendor appeared out of nowhere. "I see you've found the Sumatran tiger lily. All the way from Indonesia, they magically grow where a Sumatran tiger has been poached. For some reason, they are imbued with the personality of the tiger that died there. This one was just a cub, so it's a very small flower. It's four galleons."

Marigold looked back at the small lily, which had been moving toward her hand, possibly to bite her.

"I'll take it."

The vendor boxed it up and told her to be careful with it.

Marigold met up with Harry and Neville and the three of them made their way to Flourish and Blotts, and they were no means the only ones doing so. As they approached it, they saw, to their surprise, a large crowd pushing and shoving their way into the bookstore. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:

Gilderoy Lockhart

Will be signing copies of his autobiography

Magical Me

Today at 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.

"We actually get to meet him?" Marigold asked, astonished. "He's written almost all the books we have this year."

The crowed seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley's age. A harassed looking wizard stood at the door doing his best to create order out of all the chaos.

The three of them squeezed inside. A long line wound its way through the whole shop and ended where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ , and snuck up to meet the rest of the Weasleys and Mrs. Longbottom.

"Oh, there you are, good," Mrs. Weasley said. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a moment…"

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of himself; all of which were winking and smiling. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

Marigold was enamored, as he was very handsome. She had had a fantasy book when she was younger. Lockhart looked the spitting image of a king. He had blond hair that was so shiny a crown belonged atop it; though, the slightly askew wizard's hat looked good. He had the most regal smile Marigold had ever seen.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black cameral that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

The photographer knocked into Neville, who in turned bumped into Marigold causing a scene. To Marigold's horror, it gleaned the attention of Mr. Lockhart himself, who leapt to his feet.

"It _can't_ be Harry Potter?" he shouted.

The chaos of the already crowded bookshop got worse. The crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Lockhart grabbed Harry by the arm, and pulled him to the front. Harry looked absolutely mortified. The crowed erupted into applause, and Harry's face turned bright red as Lockhart shook his hand for the photographer, who was clicking away like a madman.

After Lockhart let go of Harry's hand, Harry tried to slip back with Marigold and Neville, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side. Marigold could tell how upset Harry was.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Lockhart said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to by my autobiography—which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge—" the crowed applauded again. "He had _no idea_ ," Lockhart continued, "that he would shortly be getting so much more than my book _Magical Me_. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The room went mad. Marigold watched as Harry was presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Neville and Marigold exchanged glances. Harry staggered over to the edge of the room. Marigold quickly gave Mrs. Weasley her money to get her books, and then she and Neville went to join Harry.

Harry was standing next to a bright-faced Ginny who had the new books in her new cauldron. Marigold could only assume Harry had given them to her.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" a voice rang out, before Marigold or Neville could say anything to Harry.

It was a voice none of them had trouble recognizing. The three of them turned to find themselves face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. Marigold thought he looked odd, not wearing his school robes. It looked like one of his parents had dressed him. While her and the others were wearing casual clothes, Malfoy was wearing rather dapper robes. They were similar to what Mr. Malfoy wore for work, but they looked tailored to Malfoy. He looked entirely too small to be wearing such a thing.

" _Famous_ Harry Potter," Malfoy said. "Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Ginny snapped, beating Marigold to the punch. Marigold realized that this was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. Ginny was glaring at Malfoy.

"Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!" Malfoy mocked. Ginny went scarlet.

"Knock it off, Malfoy!" Marigold snapped, stepping in between Ginny and Malfoy.

"Or what?" Malfoy taunted.

"Marigold, there you are!" Mr. Weasley said, making his way over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well, —Arthur Weasley."

Marigold could only assume that the man who had a hand on Malfoy's shoulder was Mr. Malfoy. He had the same pointed face and identical cold, grey eyes. His robes, well they seemed to fit him perfectly. Marigold could see now why Malfoy was such a prat.

"Lucius," Mr. Weasley said, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," Mr. Malfoy said. "All those raids… I even heard you took in a young ward," he looked down at Marigold, sneering. "I hope they are paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. Marigold fought the urge to attack Mr. Malfoy, the anger boiling up inside her.

"Obviously not… Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly," Mr. Malfoy responded, his eyes drifting back to Marigold. "The company that you keep, Weasley… opening your home to such… people… and I thought your family could sink no lower—"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads.

"Get him, Mr. Weasley!" Marigold yelled.

Mrs. Weasley, who had been drawn to the commotion like everyone else, started shrieking for Mr. Weasley to stop.

Hagrid's voice boomed over everyone, and Marigold turned to see him wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy apart. Mr. Weasley had a bloody lip and Mr. Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an _Encyclopedia of Toadstools_. He was till holding Ginny's Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl—take your book—it's the best your father can give you."

Neville had to grab Marigold to keep her from tackling Mr. Malfoy, who pulled himself from Hagrid's grip, beckoned to Draco, and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," Hagrid said, almost lifting Mr. Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that—no Malfoy's worth listenin' ter –bad blood, that's what it is—come on now—let's get outta here."

Mrs. Weasley was beside herself with fury. Mrs. Longbottom was trying to pretend that she wasn't amused with the whole ordeal, but Marigold could tell that she had had a fun time.

"A fine example to set for your children… brawling in public…what Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought—" Mrs. Weasley was saying.

Marigold, Neville, and Harry, listened to the two Weasleys bicker all the way back to the Leakey Cauldron.

Marigold and Harry said goodbye to Neville, promising to save him a spot on the train. Then everyone made their way over to the fire to go back home to the Burrow. When they got back, Harry confided in Marigold that he really, really didn't like Floo powder.

(A/N: Stay tuned for the next chapter! Thank you everyone for reading, and a special thank you to Hawkie81 and guest Holly for all your wonderful reviews!)


	4. Home Again, Home Again, Nearly Expelled

(A/N: Thank you everyone for waiting patiently for the next chapter! I hope you enjoy! Everything you recognize is not mine, but belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Over the last part of summer, Marigold did a lot of juggling. Harry and she would go down to the little Muggle town, and Harry would walk around aimlessly while Marigold mowed lawns. She was doing her best to earn enough money to make up for what she used to buy Harry and Neville's gifts. When she wasn't mowing lawns, she was poring over the notes Percy gave her or reading through Gilderoy Lockhart's books. She enjoyed spending her time with the Weasley family, particularly Ginny, who was starting to get nervous about Hogwarts.

The two of them spent a lot of time reading outside in the garden, punting the occasional gnome over the fence. Because marigold was always so busy working on homework or mowing lawns, as the summer went on, their time together was less and less.

In Marigold's absence, Ginny started spending more and more time in her room writing in her diary, until she didn't want to read with Marigold anymore. How she stayed so dedicated to it was beyond Marigold. So, Marigold started spending even more time working on homework and mowing lawns.

Lockhart's books were amazing, but even more amazing was Lockhart himself. The things he had done in his travels! Marigold not only thought he was handsome, but she aspired to be like him. Though his books didn't actually tell her how to get rid of such dangerous creatures, they did tell her what _he_ had done! He had banished the Bandon Banshee, saved a village from a werewolf, had even dealt with vampires!

This year was going to be so much better than last year! She remembered being excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts, last summer, and how that the class had turned out to be a dud with Quirrel/Voldemort being their teacher. But with Lockhart, things were going to be amazing!

Harry didn't seem as interested in Lockhart as Marigold was. In fact, for some reason Harry seemed to detest their future professor. Marigold would do her best to talk to Harry about the books, but Harry wouldn't even bother to read them. Instead, he spent his time goofing off with Ron. Eventually Marigold stopped bothering, chalking all Harry's annoyance up to a bad first impression.

Marigold also spent a lot of time to taking care of the Sumatran Tiger Lily she had bought for Neville. Since they had decided at the party that they would be exchanging gifts on the train, she had a couple weeks to bond with the lily. The vendor had told her that it just needed all the things the plant needed to survive: sunlight, water, the occasional fertilizer. She kept the lily on her desk while she studied, talking to it, occasionally having to move it and keep it from nudging her quill off the desk.

She wanted so badly to keep it; but she had bought it for Neville, and she knew he was going to love it. She kept reminding herself that it was his, but she also told the flower. She wasn't sure if it could understand her, but she didn't want it to get upset when she had to pass it along to Neville.

The day before they all had to return to Hogwarts came far too soon. Everyone had a wonderful day of hanging out and laughing, wondering what the new school year would bring. When Mr. Weasley finally got home from work, everyone sat down to a wonderful dinner that Marigold and Mrs. Weasley had whipped up. The twins did their best to push how late they could stay up, but after they begged three times for "just one more cup of cocoa", Mrs. Weasley got fed up and ordered everyone to go to bed.

Marigold slept well enough, only waking up once or twice to revel in the fact that she would be going back to Hogwarts.

The next morning was absolute madness. Nobody was up on time, Marigold was the only one who had bothered to pack the night before, and breakfast was much too rushed. When everyone had piled into Mr. Weasley's amazing car, they were already running late. To make matters worse, they had to return to the house several times; the first was when Fred had forgotten some of his firecrackers, the second when Ginny realized her diary hadn't been packed.

When they finally got to the station, Marigold, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny ran ahead to get to the train in time for Ginny to find a good first seat. Marigold promised Harry she would get them a good compartment, then disappeared through the barrier.

Unlike last year, Platform Nine and Three Quarters wasn't as packed, probably due to the fact that most everyone was already on the train. Ginny managed to find a rather empty compartment, spare for a smallish boy with mousy hair.

When Mrs. Weasley was sure Ginny had settled in, and the two of them had said their goodbyes, Marigold and Mrs. Weasley set off to find a compartment for Marigold, hopefully one with a Neville in it. Marigold finally found Neville toward the back of the train, and Marigold and Mrs. Weasley said goodbye, but not before Mrs. Weasley gave Marigold a really big hug.

Neville helped Marigold put her trunk up, and the two of them sat down to wait for Harry.

"How was the rest of your summer, Marigold?" Neville asked.

"Really busy, I finished all the books for the year. Did you read Lockhart's? Aren't they amazing?"

"No," Neville said, a look of annoyance on his face. "I tried reading the vampire one... but didn't like it."

"Didn't like it? That one's my favorite."

They were silent for a moment; Marigold looked out the car window and saw the big clock on the platform.

"Harry'd better hurry, the train leaves in less than a minute," Marigold said, suddenly anxious.

"He'll make it. He has to," Neville said.

The train whistled and started to pull out of the station. Marigold and Neville exchanged glances.

"He's probably just looking for us. I mean, we are rather far back in the train," Neville suggested, though he didn't look at all convinced.

The longer the two of them waited, the more obvious it was that Harry must have missed the train altogether. About fifteen minutes after the train left the station, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan knocked on their car door.

"Heya Marigold, Neville," Dean said. "Have either of you seen Ron?"

"No? Have either of you seen Harry?" Marigold asked.

"Harry's missing, too?" Seamus asked.

"Yeah, I thought they were right behind me when I came through the barrier. Something must have happened."

"What possibly could have happened?" Dean asked.

"No idea... I just hope they make their way to Hogwarts somehow," Marigold said, with a sigh.

"What other ways are there to get to Hogwarts?" Dean asked, directed at nobody in particular.

"Hermione mentioned once that a long time ago people would travel to Hogsmeade, a small wizarding village nearby, and then walk to Hogwarts... But I have no idea how they would even make it there."

"Well, I guess we can just tell someone once we get there?" Neville suggested.

"Yeah! Someone at school will be able to figure it out," Marigold said.

"Do you guys mind if we stay here with you?" Dean asked.

"I have exploding snap," Seamus added.

The four of them played exploding snap for a while, but nobody was really into it. Dean and Seamus eventually they left, saying they wanted to see some other people before arriving. Marigold and Neville didn't talk for a while; they were both preoccupied with their thoughts.

Marigold stared out the window, wondering what could have kept their two friends off of the train. They had been right behind her.

"Well, I might as well give you your gift now," Marigold said, grabbing the lily box and handing it to Neville.

She hadn't wrapped it aside from a bow since she hadn't wanted the lily to suffocate, if that were possible.

Neville opened it slowly, as if he somehow knew to be delicate. When he saw the lily, and it moved toward him, his eyes grew wide.

"How did you get one!" Neville asked, completely astonished.

"There was a vendor in Diagon Alley. Do you like it?" "Like it? It's amazing! You've had it for a while, haven't you? What's its temperament like?"

"Mischievous," Marigold answered, thinking back to all the times it had tried to steal her quill. "The vendor told me it's the soul of a cub, that's why it's so small."

"I _was_ wondering about that." Neville was grinning ear to ear. Marigold felt pleased, and matched Neville's smile. "Did you name it?"

"No. I wanted you to do that." Marigold laughed. "Right, um, how about... Dora?" he said after a while. "Why Dora?"

"For Gryffin _dor_? _Dora_?" it was more of a question than an answer.

Neville was blushing; it seemed as though he was embarrassed by the name now that he had said it. "I like it!"

"Harry told me once that he was almost put in Slytherin," Neville said. Dora the flower was bobbing its petals with the train movements.

Marigold couldn't say she was surprised. Harry did have a lot of the traits that the house of Slytherin admired; he _was_ very resourceful, and when he put his mind to something, he could be very ambitious, and when it came to plots concerning Malfoy... Harry could be very cunning.

"It was more of a passing comment, I guess. It was back when you were in the hospital wing after the troll, we had run out of things to talk about and were unable to sleep. He told me that when he was up there, the sorting hat really wanted him to go to Slytherin, but he begged to be in Gryffindor. It just got me thinking, you know? What would have happened—"

"Had he been put in Slytherin?" Marigold finished.

Neville nodded. "Do you suppose he would be friends with Malfoy?"

"No... you remember the train ride to Hogwarts last year? Malfoy asked to be friends, and Harry shot him down. I'd like to think that the three of us would still be together... but to be honest, I don't know what would have happened.

"The sorting hat almost put me in Hufflepuff. I went after the both of you, after all, and it thought that my loyalty to you would help me do well in Hufflepuff. But it decided that after all I had been though," she paused. "That after all I had been through I must have had real courage... so I went to Gryffindor."

" _We_ could have been together either way."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I went first. The hat kept insisting that I belonged in Gryffindor... but I was begging to go to Hufflepuff. I was, and still am, intimidated by Gryffindor. So if I had gotten my way, we could have been together."

"Yeah, but then Harry went and was placed into Gryffindor... I would have had to choose which one to go to, choose between the two of you. Which I guess the hat would have seen as loyalty and sent me to Hufflepuff."

"My head hurts," Neville said.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I believe the hat was right. You belong in Gryffindor."

The trolley lady chose that moment to show up, and jumped up and got a few treats for the two of them. She sat down next to Neville and the two of them shared the candy and looked out the window as the trees went by.

They had been looking out the window for a long time when Marigold saw something completely impossible. Dipping out of the clouds- and it only lasted a second- Marigold saw Mr. Weasley's blue car. The sugar quill that Marigold had been chewing on was suddenly no longer in her mouth.

"Neville, tell me you just saw what I saw."

"...If you just saw a flying blue car, then yes, I saw what you saw. But... why did we see a flying blue car?"

"I think we just found Harry and Ron!"

Marigold explained the car to Neville, who was getting increasingly worried the more she talked. As she went on, Marigold got more and more angry, until she realized that she had been pacing back and forth the compartment for a good minute.

"They have broken so many laws! What if they are seen? They could get expelled for this!"

"I'm sure Harry won't get expelled, he's Harry Potter," Neville said, trying to reassure her.

"Yeah... but what about Ron? He doesn't get the benefit of being the Boy Who Lived!"

"That's true..."

"Mrs. Weasley will kill him," Marigold said, whirling to look at Neville. "She is actually going to kill him! If she doesn't pull him out of school immediately, she'll wait for Christmas, and when we return to Hogwarts, he won't be joining us because she will have killed him."

"I'm sure she won't—" Marigold just looked at him. "...Yeah, he's a goner."

Marigold paused, anger subsiding momentarily. "Something's wrong about this… I don't know what… but neither of them would risk doing something so stupid without good reason."

Marigold was steaming again as they got off the train. They waved to Hagrid, who was carting off the first years toward the boats. But Marigold and Neville made their way in the opposite direction, following everyone else. It took quite a while, as they were near the last of the line, but as they got further and further ahead, Marigold could just make out several horseless carriages that the upper years were climbing aboard.

Neville was looking rather uncomfortable and worried by the time they reached the carriage and clamored in. Hermione, Dean, and Seamus were in the carriage with them, so Marigold didn't ask Neville what was up. She assumed it was Harry related anyways.

Marigold caught up with Hermione while Neville talked with the boys. Hermione was even more fascinated with Lockhart than Marigold was, which was saying something. She had read all the schoolbooks, and had purchased his biography's and read them as well. The two of them talked excitedly about their hopes for his class. They both agreed that he would be better than Quirrell; but to be honest, that wasn't much of a feat. After all, Quirrell had Voldemort on his head.

When they finally caught sight of the castle, the five of them stopped talking almost immediately and just stared.

It felt good to be home. Marigold could feel the magic radiating from the castle and flowing through her very core.

"It's good to be back," Marigold whispered. Everyone just nodded.

They pulled up to the castle and followed the small trail toward the entryway. When they arrived, they made their way to the Great Hall, where everyone was already seated at their house tables. The five of them made their way, making sure to leave room at the end of the table for the first years.

The Great Hall was deafening with all the students still excitedly talking about their summer and their hopes for the new year. Dumbledore was sitting at the head table, looking over all the students; he made eye contact with Marigold and smiled. Marigold smiled back, and then frowned when she noticed that someone was missing from the head table.

Professor Snape, the bane of Marigold's existence, was missing. She wondered where he could possibly be, but she got a sickening feeling that it had something to do with Harry and Ron.

Everyone got louder all of the sudden, and Marigold turned to see the first years filing in. They all looked terrified; she wondered if she had looked that scared last year. She supposed she did. Marigold found Ginny in the crowd; she looked scared, too, but not nearly as horrified as some of the kids beside her.

Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on the stool, but Marigold wasn't paying attention because at that moment, she caught sight of Harry and Ron at the entryway behind the first years. And, even worse, Snape. Harry and Ron had their backs turned to marigold, addressing Snape, but she would recognize them anywhere. Snape did not look pleased to see them.

Marigold turned to Neville, who was watching the hat in awe, and tugged on him to turn around, but by the time she had gotten his attention, Harry, Ron, and Snape, were gone.

Marigold reluctantly turned back to the sorting ceremony. The smallest first year of the group, Collin Creevey as McGonagall said, made his way over to the hat and sat down. When Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head, it fell nearly to his shoulders. It didn't take too long before the hat shouted Gryffindor! and Collin Creevey became the first of the first years to run over to their table. He sat right next to Marigold, and shook hands with everyone his tiny arms could reach.

The Slytherin house was filling up faster than any of the other houses, which Marigold found interesting. She wondered why so many of the first years were going to Slytherin, last year they had been divided pretty evenly. Or maybe she was just more aware of how many Slytherins there were. Finally, after almost all the other students had been sorted, Ginny was finally called up.

Marigold remembered how, last year, the hat had instantly said Gryffindor for Ron. So it was surprising when the hat took a few minutes with Ginny. During that time, Marigold caught sight of the twins down the table, who both seemed mildly concerned.

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted, and a wave of relief swept over the Weasleys and Marigold.

When the last of the first years had been sorted, and Professor McGonagall disappeared through the door behind the head table, when she returned and sat down, Dumbledore stood up, and the room fell silent.

"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts. I have a fe—" "Who's that?" Collin whispered, poking Marigold in the ribs.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," she replied, perturbed that she had missed what Dumbledore had to say.

Her annoyance didn't last long, seeing as when she turned back to the table, it had been filled with all sorts of wonderful food. She grabbed some scalloped potatoes and a rather large cut of ham and dug in.

She didn't bat an eye when the ghosts showed up, but Colin yelped. He was fascinated by everything; he confessed to her that he was Muggle-born, and the two of them talked about their childhood. Well, Marigold didn't say much about hers, but not that she needed to; Colin talked enough for the two of them. His father was a milkman, and he had a little brother named Dennis who was two years younger than him.

Colin slowed down a little when desert showed up, but that didn't last long. Marigold caught Neville trying to stifle his laughter when Colin asked her if the two of them could be friends.

Unlike seemingly everyone within earshot, Marigold wasn't _too_ bothered by Colin. So she agreed. He was about to start off again when, thankfully, Dumbledore got up to talk.

"Now that we have had our fill, I have a few start-of- term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils as it is very deadly. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, wants me to remind you, yet again, that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch." Dumbledore waved toward Madam Hooch, who nodded in the direction of all four houses.

"Now, for the school song!"

Just like last year, Dumbledore flicked his wand and golden ribbon danced out, forming the words in mid air. The teachers still didn't seem interested, but Marigold sang her heart out. She remembered the sleepover she and the boys had had, and, judging by the stupid grin on Neville's face, he did too.

Once everyone had finished, Dumbledore dismissed the hall.

"I'll be down in the common room tomorrow morning really early," Marigold said to Colin. "If you come down, I can help you get back here to the Great Hall."

"Thanks, Marigold!" Colin said, taking off to follow the other first years.

"Should we head out, then?" Neville asked when Marigold turned back to him.

"Yeah. Hey, I could have sworn I saw Harry and Ron earlier... bad news is, I think I saw Snape, too."

"Well, nothing good can come from that."

Neville was absolutely right; but, on the plus side, it was good to be back.

They passed a prefect in the hall and got the start of the year password, _wattlebird_. When they finally ducked past the Fat Lady and into the common room, Marigold was delighted to see Harry and Ron.

Hermione was chewing out Ron, who was slouching so far down in his chair Marigold was sure they would need a spell to remove him, while Dean and Seamus were laughing. Harry, on the other hand, was suddenly and completely without warning hugging Marigold and Neville.

"Please tell me I was imagining things when I saw Mr. Weasley's car from the train," Marigold hissed.

Harry didn't answer until the common room started emptying. The three of them sat in their usual seats by the fireplace.

"We couldn't get through the barrier!" Harry said once the room was clear enough to his liking. "What else were we supposed to do?"

"Anything but break all law!"

"Well, if it's any consolation, we both got a ton of detention," Harry sighed.

"You're lucky you weren't expelled," Neville said, beating Marigold to the punch.

"Do you at least want to know what happened?" Harry asked, a little annoyed.

"Yes..." Marigold mumbled.

"Well, first of all, it was Ron's idea. And it wasn't nearly as fun as he's making it seem. It was really boring, actually. Long and hot, too. And to make matters worse, we crash-landed into a tree. A living and very angry tree. The car got pretty banged up, Ron broke his wand trying to get us out.

"When we finally got loose from the tree, we thought we were in the clear. But just as we got to the Great Hall, Snape found us and marched us straight to his office in the dungeons... We thought we were going to be expelled, but Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came to our rescue and we got really, really lucky."

"That's putting it lightly." Neville said.

The common room was finally empty, but Marigold was sure that the adventure of Harry and Ron was going to glean a lot of attention from the whole school. Add that to the fact that Harry was super famous, and she was sure that there were going to be stares and pointing yet again.

They didn't talk for too much longer. Harry's gift for Neville was up in his trunk, so they all said goodnight. Marigold made her way up to her dormitory and crawled into her bed.

It was much more comfortable than last year. Quieter, too, since all the girls had already gone to bed in anticipation for the next day. She was sure some of the girls didn't liker her still, but, unlike last year, she didn't care at all.

(A/N: Please leave a review, I love hearing everything you have to say! Feel free to send me a message too! I love you all. Thank you!)


	5. Cheesy Smiles and Blushing Faces

(A/N: Finally up! Sorry it took so long! It's a long chapter this time, yay! Everything you recognize belongs to the amazing J.K.)

Marigold woke up early, as she always did at Hogwarts, and got ready for the day. She had a little trouble with her tie, not having tied one in months, but eventually she was washed, dressed, and heading down to the common room. She sat in her usual seat by the fire, wondering what her class schedule was going to be this year.

She held her old planner in her hands. It had been packed for nostalgia reasons, Marigold had wanted to compare her classwork this year to that of last year. When she had packed it, it had been completely full and flashing with all her old classes and assignments. But as she looked at its pages in the light of the fire, it was completely empty. Even her name was gone from the front. All her doodles, her classes, her old assignments, all of them. Gone.

She wasn't upset. Just bewildered, mainly. Marigold had wondered last year where Professor McGonagall had purchased it; now, Marigold was beginning to wonder whether Professor McGonagall had made it. It would explain some things like how it was so intuitive, how it would scream if an assignment wasn't handed in, how it magically erased itself…

She remembered thinking, when she first got it, that it had looked old, like it had been used for years. But how could a planner be old, used for years, and be completely blank?

The fire was crackling low, and with a silent flick of her wand, she lifted one of the logs next to it and placed it on top of the blaze. It felt good to be using magic again. She had been able to do it her first try, probably because she had practiced _Wingardium Leviosa_ so many times.

"That was really cool!"

Colin's sudden presence made her jump.

"Good morning, Col—"

"'Morning! You didn't even say anything, is that normal?"

"I mean it's not, _not_ normal. How did you sleep?" She asked, noticing the beginnings of bags under his eyes. Those would only get worse over the next month or so.

Marigold noticed that he had a very large and clunky Muggle camera hanging around his neck, which Marigold found a little odd.

"Couldn't! I was getting to know all of my dorm-mates. They told me about this kid named Harry Potter. They were all so excited that he was going to school with us, and of course I didn't know who he was. But when they told me, I thought it was amazing! They said he was in your year, and in Gryffindor! Do you think you could introduce me?" His words were flying out of his mouth so fast she thought he was going to pass out before he took a breath.

"Introduce me? I can do that for myself you know," Harry said.

He and Neville were standing there grinning, though Harry's grin seemed a little fake. Marigold could see that a couple of the older students were starting to straggle through the common room on their way to breakfast.

"Hi! I'm Colin Creevey!" Colin said, jumping up to shake Harry's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Colin."

"I say we make our way to breakfast, that way I can help Colin get to his first class. If that's okay with you of course?" Marigold asked.

"Sounds great!"

The four of them made their way to the Great Hall, stopping to point out a few landmarks for Colin to use so that he wouldn't get lost like they had. Colin was constantly bombarding everyone with questions.

When they finally ambled into the Great Hall, Marigold insisted that Colin eat more than just toast, since was going to be a long time before lunch. After a while, Marigold caught sight of Ginny sitting alone a little ways down the table.

"Hey Colin, let me introduce you to the only Weasley to ever have a hat stall."

The two of them walked over to Ginny, who had a piece of toast in one hand and a quill in the other, her nose firmly in her diary.

"Hey, Ginny, this is Colin."

The two of them exchanged pleasantries, and when Colin sat down across from Ginny, Marigold quickly escaped.

"I think you might have a fan club," Marigold said, sitting down next to Harry.

Before he could answer, Ron and Hermione marched over and sat down. They looked like they had just been bickering. Hermione's face was scrunched up and Ron looked annoyed at something; Marigold half heartedly wondered what they had been arguing about. Dean and Seamus joined them a moment later.

Marigold's attention was drawn away from the them and toward the enchanted ceiling, which had suddenly filled with owls of all sizes and colors. Marigold recognized the fluffy, unkempt, grey plumage of the Weasley family owl, Errol.

"Ouch!" Neville cried beside her.

A large package dropped on his head from his grandmother's owl; but Marigold was hardly paying attention to Neville and his package of forgotten knickknacks. A large commotion was coming from Ron's side of the table.

"You have to open it, Ron!" Dean was insisting.

Ron's face was white. In his hands he was holding an ordinary looking red envelope. Marigold wondered what the big deal was.

"It'll be worse if you wait," Seamus added.

Marigold didn't have to wonder for long, because the moment Ron broke the seal, the screeching voice of Mrs. Weasley filled the Great Hall. The table shook and the ceiling crumbled, sending dust down into Marigold's grits.

 ** _"—_** ** _STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRIZED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE—"_**

Everyone in the hall had turned to watch as Ron was relentlessly scolded by his mother. Harry turned as white as Ron. Though nobody's attention was on him, including the screaming voice of Mrs. Weasley, he appeared just as guilty and embarrassed as Ron.

 ** _"_** ** _LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED—"_**

Harry suddenly was very invested in buttering his toast, but his face had gone from white to scarlet.

 ** _"—_** ** _ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED—YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIERY AT WORK, AND IT'S ENTIERLY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME!"_**

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Ron looked like he was going to be sick; Harry was looking everywhere but at Ron and the ash covered table. A couple people laughed, especially Malfoy, who didn't stop sniggering for several minutes. But eventually, conversation returned to normal.

Marigold turned back to her breakfast and found that she had a small white envelope lying haphazardly in her grits. She turned it over and found her name written in Dumbledore's unique, identifiable scrawl.

 _Miss Rosenberg,_

 _If you could come to my office this Saturday afternoon at two o'clock, I would greatly appreciate it. I have some things I would like to discuss with you._

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _P.S. I assume you remember how to get to my office. The password is Mice Pops._

Marigold glanced up up at the head table and the empty chair where Headmaster Dumbledore had just been seated last night. She wondered what he wanted to talk about. She hoped he didn't blame her for the stupid decision Harry and Ron made… but, then again, she did kind of blame herself for that. If only she had waited one more second.

"Your class schedule, Miss. Rosenberg," Professor McGonagall said, showing up out of nowhere, handing Marigold a sheet of parchment.

"Thank you, Professor."

Marigold turned over the schedule, while Harry and Neville received theirs from McGonagall as well, noting that it was just as hectic and unorthodox as last year. She was glad that she didn't have more classes. There weren't nearly as many free periods as last year, which was a little sad.

After copying down her classes into her planner, and slipping the note from Dumbledore into the back, Marigold chugged her pumpkin juice and stood up.

"Hey Neville, I'm gonna go help Colin, and maybe Ginny, get to their first class. I'll meet you at the Herbology greenhouse."

"Sounds good! Don't be late though, we might be in a different greenhouse this year," Neville reminded her, not bothering to look up from his schedule.

"See ya, Harry," Marigold said.

"Later, then."

Marigold walked over to where she had left Colin. He and Ginny were poring over their schedules, the both of them seemed confused and overwhelmed.

"Hey, you two. Done with breakfast?"

"Yeah! Ginny and I have double Potions first thing this morning,"

Marigold felt her heart sink. Potions, on the first day of school? The poor first years wouldn't know what hit them. But Snape wouldn't be as bad without Harry in the class, Marigold hoped. Fred and George told her that Snape wasn't unapologetically evil with their class, just simply awful.

"Alright, what class do you have after that?" Marigold asked and they exited the Great Hall. "It's best to get all the books you're going to need until lunch, then get the rest during lunch. The fifteen-minute breaks look like they are enough to go get your books, but believe me, there is no time to go to and from Gryffindor Tower in fifteen minutes. And you are going to want to write home for a bag, Colin, I already told Ginny she would need one."

After grabbing all the books they would need, Marigold with Herbology and Transfiguration, and Ginny and Colin with Potions and History of Magic, they took off toward the dungeons.

Marigold pointed out all the landmarks the two would need to get from the dungeons to the History of Magic classroom so they wouldn't get lost without her there to help them.

Once they were close to the dungeons, the three of them passed Malfoy and his two goons Crabbe and Goyle. Marigold didn't pay them any mind, but Malfoy stopped to whisper something to Goyle. Luckily for Marigold, Crabbe knocked into Goyle. With books everywhere, Marigold and the others were able to avoid a scuffle in the hallway.

When they were well enough away from the whole thing, Ginny piped up.

"He was Draco Malfoy, wasn't he?"

"Yeah, he was."

"Who's that?" Colin asked.

"A very obnoxious second year. He and the other two are in Slytherin. Stay away from him if you can, Colin."

"Okay." He looked a little confused, but Marigold was glad he didn't question her. She really didn't want to get into the whole social class situation with Draco Malfoy.

"Well, here you are," Marigold said, pointing to their open classroom door. "I suggest you wait for a few more students before heading in. I have to go, I'm already running a bit—"

"Good morning, Miss Rosenberg."

Marigold felt a shiver run down her back. Standing at the entrance to the classroom, suddenly and out of nowhere, was Severus Snape. His long hair was greasier than she remembered, his skin more sickly.

"Good morning, Professor Snape. I was just lea-"

"I see, Potter and Longbottom look quite different this year, and I could have sworn I was teaching the new first years this hour."

"Hello, Professor, I'm Colin Creevey." Colin held out his hand and Marigold stiffened.

"I see," Snape said, refusing to take Colin's hand. "Well, Miss Rosenberg, you should be getting along to class. You wouldn't want to lose Gryffindor points by being late on your first day."

"Right, I'll see you two at lunch. Professor," Marigold nodded to him, then disappeared.

Having to talk with Snape took up precious time, and Marigold really _was_ running late. When she reached the courtyard, she was at a dead run and still a minute away from the greenhouses.

When the greenhouses came into view, so did two people standing in front of them. As she got closer, she recognized both of them. Harry, looking rather uncomfortable, was talking to a smiley Professor Lockhart. Lockhart's robes were a brilliant turquoise, and his hair looked like spun gold under the sun.

Marigold became all too aware that she was a panting, sweaty mess. Lockhart glanced up from his conversation with Harry and directly at her. Marigold instinctively looked at her feet. Feeling embarrassed at her gross appearance, Marigold didn't dare make eye contact, but then Lockhart did something amazing: he actually started to talk to her.

"Good morning! Who might you be?" Lockhart asked, cheerily.

"Marigold Rosenberg, second year, Gryffindor." Marigold found herself babbling and quickly shut up.

When she looked up, Harry had a bewildered expression on his face, but Lockhart was beaming.

"Come on Marigold, we're already late," Harry said, grabbing her arm and shuffling her away from Lockhart and into greenhouse three.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. And a pleasure meeting you, Miss Rosenberg!"

And with that, Marigold and Harry entered the greenhouse, Harry's face was scrunched up in annoyance, Marigold still panting and very, very red in the face.

Professor Sprout, who had apparently been waiting for them, stood behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. Marigold and Harry slipped in next to Neville and stood behind several pairs of multicolored earmuffs.

"We'll be repotting Mandrakes today and continuing to work with them all year. Now, who can tell me the Properties of the Mandrake?"

Marigold, Neville, and Hermione's hands shot in the air.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Sprout called.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," Hermione answered, sounding like she was reading the textbook. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor." Professor Sprout beamed. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, very dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Neville's hand shot into the air, barely beating Hermione's.

"The Mandrake is very loud, and whoever hears it, well, they die."

"Precisely. Take another ten points," Professor Sprout said, smiling at Neville. "Now, these Mandrakes are still very young so they won't kill you, but they will still cause you to pass out for a few hours."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke, and everyone huddled closer to get a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish-green in color, were growing there in rows. Marigold didn't really know what to make of them. She had read about them in the book, of course, but she was a little distracted from her run in with Lockhart.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," Professor Sprout said.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to grab a pair that wasn't pink and fluffy. Marigold got a yellow and black one, Harry got a green and gray one, and poor Neville got stuck with the pink and fluffy one.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are completely covered. When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs up. Right—earmuffs on."

Marigold put the earmuffs over her ears and was amazed to find they cut out all sound completely. She wondered what spell was on them.

Professor Sprout put on a pair of fluffy pink earmuffs that looked better on her than they did on Neville. She rolled up the sleeves on her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

Marigold had seen diagrams of mandrakes in one of her books, but the thing that was swaying from Professor Sprout's hand was much worse.

Squirming and struggling, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby had popped out of the earth in place of plant roots. The leaves were growing out of its head, and it was pale green. It was clearly screaming at the top of its lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs up, and removed her earmuffs.

"It's as simple as that," Professor Sprout was saying, though Marigold thought nothing looked simple about pulling an ugly, bawling mushy looking baby out of dirt. "Four to a tray, now. There is a large supply of pots here; compost is over there in the sacks. Oh, and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Marigold, Harry, and Neville were joined at their tray by a curly-haired Hufflepuff boy Marigold had never spoken to but had bumped into a couple times last year.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he said brightly, shaking Harry's hand. "Know who you are, of course, the famous Harry Potter… And you're Marigold Rosenberg, you fought a troll last year?"

"Twice," Harry corrected, beaming at her. But Marigold began to pay a lot of attention to her earmuffs, her stomach dropping to her feet.

"And you must be Neville Longbottom, you won Gryffindor the house cup last year!" Justin continued, not noticing Marigold's discomfort.

"That Lockhart's something, isn't he?" Justin said happily as they began filling their plant pots with dragon dung compost. "Awfully brave chap. Have you read his books? I'd have died of fear if a werewolf had cornered me in a telephone booth, but he stayed cool and—zap—just _fantastic!_ Though, you lot probably wouldn't have any issue with a werewolf."

Marigold went back to her work, a gross feeling in her stomach at the thought of last year. She continued to absentmindedly mess around with her earmuffs, until Justin spoke up again.

"My name was down for Eton, you know. I can't tell you how glad I am I came here instead. Of course, Mother was slightly disappointed, but since I made her read Lockhart's books I think she's begun to see how useful it'll be to have a fully trained wizard in the family."

Marigold was about to respond about Lockhart, but to Harry and Neville's visible relief, Professor Sprout told everyone to put the earmuffs back on and attend to the Mandrakes.

Just like Marigold suspected, Professor Sprout had made it look extremely easy. The Mandrakes didn't want to come out of the dirt, and once they were out, they didn't want to go back in. They kicked and screamed and tried to bite anything that got close to their grubby faces. Marigold wondered if there was a spell or jinx that would make things easier, but she supposed that wouldn't be the way to do it. After all, jinxing something that has restorative properties might mess up potential potions or antidotes.

By the end of class, Marigold was even more out of breath and sweatier than she had been when she had ran all the way from the dungeons. She wasn't the only one, either; everyone was sore and covered in dirt and sweat. Some students, including Neville, were bleeding from being bit by the Mandrakes, though it was nothing serious enough to go to the Hospital wing.

Marigold wanted desperately to go wash, but fifteen minutes was hardly enough time to get to Gryffindor Tower, let alone to freshen up.

They had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs as well, so both groups of second years turned up to McGonagall's classroom achy and covered in dirt, a sight which seemed to annoy the esteemed witch, who pursed her lips as a last ditch effort at holding back some words.

"Now, this year we will be expanding upon what you learned last year. I am sure all of you studied over the summer, so we will be picking up where we left off." Professor McGonagall turned to write the Transfiguration Formula up on the chalkboard. "Today we will be turning a beetle into a button."

When Professor McGonagall released them, Marigold could feel the air shift in the classroom. It seemed that a fair few of the students from both houses had not studied over the summer. Marigold wasn't the only one having a difficult time, but Harry and Neville seemed to be having an impossible time. Their beetles didn't seem to want to stay still, rather running all over their desks.

Their troubles were nothing compared to Ron's, though. Ron had patched up his wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle, it engulfed him in gray smoke that smelled like rotten eggs.

By the end of class, Marigold had managed to turn a beetle into a beautiful brown button. But her elation at the magic deflated when Hermione showed her a handful of buttons.

Marigold and the boys made a beeline for Gryffindor Tower when the lunch bell rang. After a short shower and a change of robes, they made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

Marigold was excited for the upcoming double Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson; Neville and Harry didn't seem to share her enthusiasm, but Marigold wouldn't let that get her down. She was finally going to see Professor Lockhart in his environment. She wondered what he would teach them. Would it be something practical, or maybe a fascinating new spell?

After eating, the three of them made their way outside to enjoy the rest of their lunch in the sunlight. They had relaxed for only a few moments when Colin came bounding toward them from the castle, his Muggle camera swinging around his neck.

"All right, Harry, Marigold?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Afternoon, Colin," Marigold replied lazily.

"Harry, do you think it would be okay if I got a picture?"

"A picture?" Harry asked blankly.

"I didn't get the chance to ask this morning before breakfast, but I was talking to a student here and he said that if you develop a picture just right, it can _move_! You should be in it too, Marigold, and you Neville! Then maybe after it's developed you could sign it, Harry!"

" _Signed photos_? You're giving out _signed photos_ , Potter?"

Loud and scathing, Draco Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. He had stopped right behind Colin, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

Marigold, who had been lazily enjoying the sun moments before, was on her feet in a flash.

"Everyone line up!" Malfoy roared at the crowd of students that were starting to gather. "Harry Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," Harry said angrily, his fists clenching.

"You're just jealous," Colin piped up. Marigold could have smacked herself in the face. She had told him not to mess with Malfoy just this morning.

"Jealous?" Malfoy scoffed. "Of what? I don't want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself. And having your parents get murdered certainly makes you more pitiable than special."

"Watch it, Malfoy," Marigold warned.

Crabbe stopped laughing and stiffened up; Goyle started rubbing his knuckles prepping for a fight. Marigold's hand was itching for her wand.

"You'd better be careful, Rosenberg," Malfoy said. "If Mrs. Weasley is willing to drag her rule-breaking son home for snapping a few branches of a tree, what do you think she will do to the brat who's eating all the food she can barely provide for her own kids if she gets caught fighting?"

A bunch of nearby Slytherin fifth years laughed while the rest of the crowd sucked in a breath.

Marigold had her hand on her wand when Neville stopped her.

"Don't," he whispered.

"What's all this, what's all this?" Professor Lockhart was striding toward him, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. "Who's giving out signed photos?"

Marigold let go of her wand and sighed.

Harry started to speak, but Lockhart cut him short as he flung an arm around his shoulders and thundered jovially, "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!"

Harry's face was bright red as he and Professor Lockhart posed for a picture. Marigold was slightly jealous at Harry's fortune; he of course wouldn't appreciate the opportunity. True, Malfoy was smirking and Harry didn't want a photo to begin with, but to take a picture with Gilderoy Lockhart… she could only imagine.

After taking the photo, Professor Lockhart dispersed the crowd and he and Harry took off toward the castle and headed to class. Marigold and Neville followed along behind, Marigold wishing desperately that she could be up there with them.

When they reached the classroom, Lockhart let go of Harry and took off toward the front of the classroom, leaving Marigold and the others to find their seats.

"You okay Harry?" Neville asked.

"Fine," Harry said, rather miffed.

The other Gryffindor second years piled into the classroom along with the Slytherin second years, including Draco Malfoy, who still had a smug look on his face. When the whole class had been seated, Professor Lockhart cleared his throat loudly, and silence fell. He picked up Hermione's copy of _Travels with Trolls_ and held it up to show his own winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing to it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award. But I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

He paused and Marigold realized he was waiting for a laugh; she smiled faintly, feeling slightly uncomfortable with his impressive titles that he had just bragged about.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books, well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in."

When he had handed out the test papers, he returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes, start… Now!"

Marigold looked down from his smiling face to the parchment in front of her.

 _1._ _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

 _2._ _What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

 _3._ _What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

 _54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?_

As Marigold answered the questions, with no difficulty or pause at all, she thought more about her admiration of Gilderoy Lockhart. His vain questionnaire was rubbing her the wrong way, and although her heart fluttered when she looked at his truly award-winning smile, wonderful attire, and perfect hair, she felt a little ill taking this test. She had no doubt that he was a good man, but her crush seemed to be more egocentric than Draco Malfoy… and that was a problem.

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.

"Tut, tut, hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I say so in _Year with the Yeti_. And a few of you need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves_ more carefully, I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples… though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewiskey!"

He gave the class another roguish wink and Marigold had a feeling of annoyance along with her heart fluttering.

"Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions, and Miss Marigold Rosenberg chose a very unusual achievement of mine to praise… in fact," he flipped through their papers, "full marks for each of them! Where are Miss Hermione and Miss Marigold?"

Hermione raised her hand tentatively, blushing very red, while Marigold raised her own trembling hand.

"Excellent, ten points to Gryffindor! And so, to business."

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Now, be warned! It's my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm will befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Marigold forgot her discomfort and she felt her body fill with excitement. They were going to do something practical! Neville was slipping lower into his seat, and Dean and Seamus, who had been sniggering earlier, had fallen silent. Even Harry, who had been hiding behind his books, was peaking out for a better look at the cage.

"I must ask you not to scream," Professor Lockhart said in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Professor Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. " _Freshly caught Cornish pixies_."

Marigold felt the excitement leave her. She had read about pixies. Other than bothersome and potentially disruptive in large groups, they weren't particularly dangerous or interesting.

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Professor Lockhart couldn't mistake for a scream of terror.

"Yes?" He smiled at Seamus.

"Well, they're not very… dangerous, are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Professor Lockhart, waggling a finger at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be."

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shill it was like listening to a lot of budges arguing. There were no more than twenty in the large cage. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Right, then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Marigold watched in horror as two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom. In just a few moments, half the class was out the door, the other half were cowering under their desks, and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come on now, round them up, they are only pixies!" Professor Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed " _Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"_

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies actually seized his wand in threw it out of the broken window. With a whimper that Marigold thought she imagined, Professor Lockhart dived into his office and left them alone.

Marigold, who had been expecting the teacher to react, suddenly sprang into action. _Wingardium Leviosa!_ She concentrated, aiming her wand at Neville, who was whimpering, dangling from the chandelier. When he was safe on the ground again, Marigold turned her attention to the pixies. Two Slytherins had taken care of a few of the pixies with a freezing charm shot from under tables.

 _Impedimenta!_ With a horizontal flick of her wand, Marigold sent out a blinding turquoise light, which caused the remaining pixies to seize and fall to the floor.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush to the door. Harry, who had been making sure Neville was okay, stood up and gawked at the state of the classroom.

"Can you _believe_ him? He said angrily.

"He just disappeared! Left! Gone!" Neville agreed, annoyed.

A muffled crying sound came from the back of the room. Marigold rushed back and found a Slytherin girl she didn't know by name hiding under a desk, a small piece of glass stuck in her hand.

"Oh crap, you need to go see Madam Pomfrey," Marigold said, trying to help her out from under the desk. "No, don't take it out!"

The girl gave her an icy stare and got out from under the desk to leave the classroom.

"He had _no idea_ what he was doing," Marigold growled, glaring at the door Lockhart had disappeared behind, her admiration and silly crush gone.

(A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please leave a review!)


	6. Mud, Blood, and Gold

(A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait. I had a lot going on in my personal life. I got married, went on my honeymoon, and went back to work and school. But don't worry; things will be fairly regular from here on out. I'm not abandoning you guys or Marigold! Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

Marigold was having a much easier time than the boys adjusting to being back at Hogwarts. Thursday and Friday were roughly the same as Wednesday had been; she woke up early, went to breakfast, showed Ginny and Colin to their classrooms when she had the time, then went to her own classes, which passed by rather uneventfully compared to Professor Lockhart's class.

Harry seemed to find Colin annoying, and to be fair he was a bit of a bother to Harry, but Colin admired Harry, and Marigold found that endearing. Marigold felt bad for Ron, whose wand was still not working properly… when it worked at all.

He seemed to be having a decent enough time when the wand was put away, like when they worked on the theory of magic, but once either McGonagall or Flitwick called for wands out, there was no saying what could happen. Marigold and the other Gryffindors lived in fear of whether or not they would be engulfed in bad smelling clouds of smoke, or even worse, subject to friendly fire.

After all the commotion of Harry and Ron arriving in a flying car had died down, the three of them had come to the realization that they still had birthday presents to exchange. So, Friday night after a particularly uneventful day, the three of them decided to hang out in the common room until Astronomy at midnight. Neville even brought down Dora, who Marigold had been anxious to see over the last few days.

Marigold went first, handing Harry his gift. He excitedly ripped it open to find the Snitch Snatcher! game inside.

"It's so the pair of us who suck on brooms can enjoy something you enjoy with you," Marigold said.

"It's amazing!" Harry said, beaming.

"You aren't going to make us play it at the crack of dawn though, right?" Neville asked warily.

"Who do I look like, Oliver Wood?" Harry replied, causing the three of them to crack up.

When they finally stopped laughing at the expense of Harry's crazy captain, Harry handed Neville a box wrapped in Muggle wrapping paper that had multicolored balloons on it.

"I picked this up in the little Muggle village Marigold is always going down to. I figured you would find it really cool," Harry explained.

Neville ripped open the wrapping paper to find a small handheld device inside.

"What is it?" Neville asked.

"It's a Game Boy. They are really popular with Muggle kids. You push all the buttons and things happen on the screen. It won't work here at school, with all the magic and stuff, but I think it will work when you get home."

Neville still looked confused, but thanked Harry.

"Okay, your turn, Marigold," Harry said, handing her a small box wrapped in bronze paper with glittery ribbons tied around it. "I really had no idea what to get you, and I wanted to make up for the lame Christmas gift last year… I hope you like it."

Underneath all the ribbons and wrapping paper was a small white box, and inside that box was an even smaller box made out of white velvet. She pried open that box and inside was a rose gold dragon. Not a real dragon of course, but a metal one. It looked like it was sleeping, holding onto its tail, which was wrapped around his body.

"You and Charlie are always talking about dragons, so I figured I'd get you one," Harry said anxiously.

Marigold was speechless. It was beautiful, and expensive looking. She gently touched it with her fingers and, magically, it let go of its tail, opening its eyes to show two sparkling opals.

"It's a hair tie. You put it in your hair and it goes back to sleep and holds onto your hair," Harry explained.

"I can't accept this, Harry, it's too nice!" Marigold said, looking up from the metal dragon.

"I mean… think of it as two gifts then; I mean, last Christmas I only got you chocolate frogs…" Harry said, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Marigold looked back at the tiny dragon, who stared unblinkingly back at her. She gently picked it up and put it in her hair. She could feel it wrap itself around the hair tie that was already in place.

"It's amazing Harry! Thank you so much."

Marigold was excited when she woke up the next morning. She put her hair up using her new clip; the tiny dragon was cold on her scalp after sitting in his box all night.

While she was sitting downstairs in front of the fire, admiring how warm it was, Neville came down holding a small piece of parchment.

"Harry's at Quidditch practice," Neville said with a yawn.

"Already? Well, let's get some breakfast and meet him there."

"But it's so cold this morning; surely Harry won't mind if we just have breakfast then come back here and do homework."

"Oh come on, Neville, it'll be fun."

They met Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall, and the two of them decided to tag along and watch the practice. Neville found this odd, seeing as it was freezing outside and they didn't have Marigold forcing them to go.

The four of them made their way to the Quidditch pitch, warm toast and muffins in hand. When they got there they saw everyone walking out.

"You already done?" Marigold asked curiously.

"Haven't even started yet," Harry grumbled, looking at Marigold's toast with envy. "Wood's been teaching us some new moves, and I've been up since dawn."

Harry kicked off and flew around the stadium. Marigold and the others climbed up the stands and found that Colin was already there, snapping away with his camera.

"Good morning, Colin," Marigold said, handing him a piece of toast.

"Good morning, Marigold, isn't this amazing?"

Marigold only nodded as the Gryffindor team, lead by the handsome Oliver Wood, practiced some new moves. Harry was magnificent, diving toward the ground before shooting up into the air. Fred and George looked more like they were goofing off than practicing.

"How are you enjoying classes, Hermione?" Marigold asked, taking her eyes off the sky for a moment.

"I'm enjoying them fine, though I'm worried Ron might not do very well this year." The two of them glanced over at Ron and Neville who were correcting Colin about Quidditch. "I think his wand is beyond repair."

"I'm sure you're right."

"Can you believe how amazing Professor Lockhart is?" Hermione whispered dreamily.

"To be honest, after that first class with him, I find he isn't what I thought he would be. He certainly is not a good teacher," Marigold confessed.

"Really?" Hermione seemed disappointed. "I think he's brilliant…"

Hermione trailed off as the Gryffindor team had been practicing for maybe fifteen minutes when they had all suddenly stopped. Confused, Marigold looked around. Approaching the field were several students in green robes.

"This can't be good," Ron said, looking warily at the Slytherin team.

"Should we go check it out?" Hermione asked.

"Probably," Marigold sighed.

They approached the Slytherins just seconds after their own team had touched down. Oliver Wood was arguing with the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a tall, trollish looking guy.

"I booked the field for today," Wood was saying.

"Yes, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape," Flint said. " _'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'_ "

"You have a new seeker?" Oliver Wood asked, distracted. "Where?"

Flint smirked, and from behind the wall of Slytherins came a seventh smaller boy, a smirk gracing his pale, pointed face. Marigold felt a flash of anger as Draco Malfoy smirked at her as well.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked, looking at Malfoy with disgust.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," Flint said, as the grins on the Slytherin team grew more arrogant. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. There were seven well polished, brand-new handles, and seven sets of gold lettering that spelt the words _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_ gleaming under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," Flint said, carelessly flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the Cleansweeps—" he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives— "sweeps the board with them."

Marigold wasn't the only one flush with anger. Oliver Wood looked a little deflated at the sight of the new brooms, and the rest of the team were having a hard time balancing their frustration with their discouragement.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," Hermione said sharply, surprising everyone. " _They_ got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.

Marigold punched Malfoy square in the mouth, causing his head to roll back. Flint then jumped in front of Malfoy to keep Fred and George from doing the same. Oliver grabbed Marigold, holding her back. Her knuckles ached from colliding with Malfoys' stupid face.

"How dare you!" Alicia Spinnet, one of the Gryffindor Chasers, shrieked.

Marigold managed to shrug off Oliver and went to Hermione's side. Hermione was just standing there in shock. Neville was trying to comfort her, patting her back tentatively. Harry looked just as confused as Colin.

Ron was fishing around for his wand and pulled it out, yelling, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" He pointed it furiously under Flint's arm at Malfoy's bleeding face.

A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you all right?" Hermione squealed, rushing to his side.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several black and green slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap.

The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist, laughing and dribbling blood from his lip. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said to Neville, who nodded.

The pair of them pulled Ron up by the arms, Marigold grabbed Hermione by the arm, and they all hobbled over toward Hagrid's hut, Colin bouncing around the other boys, trying his best to help.

Marigold ran up ahead and banged on Hagrid's door. Hagrid appeared at once, smiling at the two of them, but the moment he saw Ron, slugs all over the ground around him, he bustled out of the way. Hagrid's dog, Fang, however, did not move out of the way until Ron nearly puked slugs all over him.

Harry and Neville got Ron onto the couch and Hagrid came back with a bucket for Ron. Hagrid didn't seem at all perturbed by the problem and sat down, giving Colin a big grin. Colin smiled back nervously, not sure what to make of Hagrid, or the very large dog that was drooling in his lap.

"Better out than in, get 'em all up Ron!" Hagrid said, turning from Colin to Ron.

"I don't think there's anything to do except wait for it to stop," Hermione said anxiously, watching Ron bend over the bucket. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand…"

"I think yer right, Hermione. But what even happened?" Hagrid asked.

"He was trying to curse Malfoy," Marigold said, looking away from Ron.

"He called me something, it must have been really bad, because everyone went wild," Hermione mumbled. "Marigold even punched him in the face."

Hagrid raised a bushy eyebrow at Marigold, who had been looking at her knuckles, which were sore but no longer red.

"He called her a Mudblood." Marigold's eyes flashed with rage, her anger returning.

Ron dived out of sight again as a fresh wave of slugs made their appearance. Hagrid looked outraged. Harry and Hermione still looked confused. Colin wiped dog slobber off his robes.

"He didn'!" Hagrid growled at Hermione.

"He did," she answered.

"I don't understand," Harry piped up, Colin and Hermione nodding in agreement. "I could tell it was really rude, of course—"

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," Ron managed to say before disappearing into the bucket again.

"Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born—" Neville continued for him, gently patting his shoulder— "you know, non magic parents?"

"Some wizards, like Malfoy's family," Ron continued with a gulp, "think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." He gave a small burp and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand. He threw it into the basin and continued. "I mean the rest of us know it doesn't make any difference at all. Look at Neville and myself; we come from long lines of witches and wizards, and yet Hermione and Marigold are the top of the class."

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," Marigold sighed. "And it just so happens to be one of Malfoy's favorite insults… I never thought he would use it in front of other people though."

"Has he—?" Neville asked, visibly upset.

"Last year, I wrote and asked Charlie about it," she confessed.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," Hagrid said loudly over the thuds of more slugs in the bucket. "But maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter school if yeh'd cursed his son. Yeh on the other hand, Marigold, I doubt Draco'll even mention it to his dad that yeh decked him."

"That seems like a fair bet," Marigold said, chuckling.

With everything somewhat resolved, they decided to stay while Ron puked up his slugs, figuring parading him around the school wouldn't be a good idea.

They all stayed and talked for a long while, and Marigold was having a good time. The rose gold dragon caught Hagrid's eye and the two of them talked about dragons for a while, a conversation Marigold had been preparing for since last year.

Hermione seemed to be in better spirits, and even Ron seemed to be having fun. Colin didn't stay very long, mentioning something about doing homework with Ginny, before disappearing back to the castle. Marigold suspected he just didn't like dog slobber.

Hagrid was an amazing host, like always. He made them tea and treacle fudge. They skipped lunch in the great hall in favor of staying with Hagrid, who excitedly showed them his pumpkin patch.

"Hagrid, they're huge!" Hermione exclaimed, looking very impressed.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's house were a dozen or so of the largest pumpkins Marigold had ever seen in her life. Each was the size of a large boulder.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" Hagrid said happily. "Fer the Halloween feast… should be big enough by then."

"By then? Hagrid, what've you been feeding them?" Harry asked.

Marigold and the others chuckled; surely the pumpkins were being helped along with magic. Harry had told Marigold and Neville about Hagrid's flowery pink umbrella, which Harry was certain was more than it seemed. Hagrid, after all, had been expelled from Hogwarts and had his wand broken. Hagrid never talked about that though and at any mention, Hagrid would hurriedly change the subject.

A little while before two, Marigold excused herself from the rest of the group.

"I have a meeting to get to," she said, eyeing Neville and Harry, warning them not to blurt out the fact that it was with the headmaster. Marigold didn't think that either Hermione or Ron would understand, and would probably ask uncomfortable questions.

"Alright then, we'll see you in the dormitory after?" Neville asked.

"Sounds good, I'll see you all later! Thank you for the tea, Hagrid." Marigold waved and headed back toward the castle.

As she strolled across the grounds and through the corridors toward Dumbledore's office, she wondered what he wanted to talk about. Maybe he wanted to talk about her grades from the previous year and how she thought her studies were going this year?

But a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was gnawing to get out. As she walked and fidgeted with her locket, she thought, for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, about the letter her father had written her. It had been quite a blow receiving that letter the morning of her birthday, and finding out about her parents getting back together; about baby Florian, who must be around five months old now… and the odd way her father had said he had been told to write her.

While her footsteps echoed around the empty corridor, she suddenly wondered if it had been Dumbledore who had told her father to write her, though she couldn't piece together why he would bother to do so. Or how he would even know about the situation in the first place.

Filled with nerves, she approached the gargoyle statue. "Mice pops," she said, after a long pause.

The gargoyle started rotating, revealing a spiral staircase, which Marigold stepped onto, climbing up toward the wooden door. After another pause, Marigold knocked on the door.

The door swung open to reveal a large, beautiful room. Some of the portraits on the walls nodded at her as she walked in. Fawkes the phoenix was perched to the right of Dumbledore's desk, grooming and plucking at his crimson and gold feathers. The headmaster himself was seated comfortably at his desk, completely absorbed in a book.

Not wanting to interrupt, Marigold quietly sat down in one of the chairs in front of the headmaster's desk.

"You are early, my dear," Dumbledore said, finishing a paragraph from his book before looking up.

"I was at Hagrid's and thought it would take longer to get here," she replied, fidgeting.

"No problem at all." Dumbledore smiled and closed the book. "How are you enjoying being back?"

"I've missed it here very much, Professor, and I've missed using magic even more."

"I can imagine you have." Dumbledore stood up. Marigold moved to follow, but Dumbledore just smiled. "Oh don't get up on my account, I was just wondering if you would like some tea?"

"Oh, yes please," Marigold said, relaxing back into her seat. She was actually quite full of tea from Hagrid's, but didn't want to be rude.

"Did you enjoy your summer?" Dumbledore asked. His back was turned to Marigold and she could hear him pouring the tea.

"I did! Harry came to stay with us a little while after our birthday."

"So I heard." Headmaster Dumbledore had a knowing smile on his face as he handed her the tea.

"Thank you," she said. The tea smelled like old books, but tasted like cinnamon, a was surprisingly combination.

"Did you have a good birthday? Receive any fun presents?"

Marigold looked up at Dumbledore; somehow she knew her suspicions had been right. He _had_ been the one to tell her father to write her. She didn't know how she was able to tell, but there was something there, in his eyes, that gave it away.

"I got a ring from the Weasleys," Marigold said, showing him the ring, "and the new chain is from Neville. And just yesterday, I got this dragon from Harry," Marigold said, turning to show him.

"That is a beautiful bit of magic there," Professor Dumbledore said, sipping his tea.

Marigold paused for a long moment, taking a sip from her tea as well. "I got a letter from my dad as well." She tried to be nonchalant about it, but Marigold knew that this was what Dumbledore had been waiting for.

"Oh? And how is your _family_ doing?"

"Well, funny you should mention it, but my parents are actually back together now that I'm gone. I even have a baby brother, Florian. I haven't mentioned it to anyone yet, I'm not really sure how I feel about it," Marigold confessed.

"Is Florian like you?"

"No. He's going to have a very happy, non-magical childhood," Marigold said, surprisingly bitter.

Dumbledore didn't say any more on the matter, and for a brief moment Marigold felt like questioning the Headmaster. She wanted to know why he wanted her father to write to her, why he didn't want her to forget her family like she so desperately wanted to. She looked up from her tea, about to open her mouth, but decided against it.

"What were you reading?" she asked instead.

"Oh, of course." Professor Dumbledore handed her the book. "As I understand it, you enjoyed the book I gave you last year, so I wanted to give you another one."

Marigold looked down at the small blue book with green bindings. _Fight or Flight: of Everything You Need to Know About Dueling_ was printed on the cover in pretty silver writing.

"Another book about dueling?" she asked, flipping through the pages.

"I thought that, since you enjoyed all the non-verbal spells that go along with dueling, you might want to know how a duel actually works," Dumbledore said, a smile in his voice. "Think of it as a late birthday present."

"Thank you so much, Professor," Marigold said, looking up from the pages. "Would you like me to write you again? Like I did last year?"

"I would like that. Now, I'm not going to hold you here all day, but before you leave can I give you some advice I've learned over the years?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Rely on your friends, especially when you don't know how you fell about something. They are there to help you."

"Thank you, Professor, I think you are right."

Marigold got up and walked toward the door; she had almost reached it when Dumbledore called out again.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said, making her spin around. "The book doesn't say this, but I've found that your fists are great assets, especially in times where magic might not be the best option."

Marigold nodded, blushing, and turned to leave. As she walked back to Gryffindor Tower she wondered how Dumbledore knew about the scuffle on the Quidditch pitch. But then again, Marigold would have been more surprised if the headmaster hadn't known about it.

Marigold was casually reading through _Fight or Flight: of Everything You Need to Know About Dueling_. Harry, Neville, and she had met up after her meeting with Dumbledore and had finished their weekend homework. Not long after, Harry and Ron left for their detentions, something Marigold had forgotten about due to the incident earlier that day. Hermione mumbled something about studying, then left for the girls' dormitories.

So, while Harry was serving detention with Professor Lockhart, something Marigold would have once envied, Marigold sat herself down in the common room and started reading her new book. Neville had been rereading his old notes, but with dinner weighing on his stomach he had passed out early on.

It was a very interesting book to say the least, and very easy to read, she was halfway through the book when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open. Bewildered, Marigold closed her book in time to see Harry stumble into the common room. Harry took a seat next to Neville, who woke up very confused as to why his notes were sticking to his face.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Marigold asked.

Harry just shook his head in response.

Neville, realizing the situation, ripped the notes off his face. "Was it Lockhart?"

"No," Harry said, not bothering to look away from the smoldering fireplace.

"Well then, what was it? You look awful, Harry," Marigold said, setting her book to the side.

"I'm not really sure I didn't imagine it," Harry confessed. "Lockhart had me help him sign autographs for four hours and it was really boring. He kept saying stupid things like ' _fame's a fickle friend'_ , or ' _celebrity is as celebrity does'_. I was wishing Voldemort would burst into the room and kill me. That's when I heard it…" Harry trailed off.

"Heard what, Harry?" Neville asked, alert, all traces of sleep gone spare a small smudge of ink on his cheek.

"A chilling voice, a breathtaking icy voice."

"A voice? What did it say?" Marigold asked.

Harry looked at her and she felt a chill go down her spine. His eyes weren't really looking at her; they weren't even looking through her. He looked agitated, but he wasn't moving around; but he wasn't frozen either, though. No, Harry… he looked haunted.

"'Come, come to me. Let me rip you. Let me tear you. Let me _kill_ you.'" Harry paused, "and to make matters worse? Lockhart didn't hear it."

(A/N: A special thank you to my new editor geneviveyoung for working with me on getting this out to you guys. As always, please feel free to comment and like. I love hearing from all of you. The tumblr for Marigold is still up and it has a ton of information like class schedules and such. Until next time!)


	7. 321 Regret is Never Fun

Full title of the chapter is: 321 Regret is Never Fun, ABC Grades are Never Easy

(A/N: Finally finished with finals! For all of you who have also completed yours, congrats! And for those still working, good luck. And for everyone, here's the newest addition to the story. Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.K.)

Marigold didn't know what to think about the voice Harry had heard. She went over every possibility she could think of, but nothing made sense. She wondered if she should write Dumbledore about it, but then thought better about that. Hearing voices was never a good sign.

So after saying goodnight to Neville, who looked just as concerned as she did, and to Harry, who looked lost in thought, she decided to crawl in her bed, draw her curtains, and finish her book. She eventually fell asleep after rereading the same sentence for about an hour, not even comprehending that she had been doing so.

Harry and Neville decided to do absolutely nothing on Sunday, which Marigold would have loved to do had Colin and Ginny not asked for help on their homework the day before. So while Harry and Neville lounged about in the common room doing who knows what, Marigold led the two first years to the library.

"Alright then, what classes do the two of you have homework in?" she asked, sitting down in one of her favorite spots.

It was a small table by the window; she could look out onto the rainy grounds and see the seemingly never-ending Forbidden forest. The window started fogging up as soon as they sat down, the rain trickling down the window getting obscured in the process.

"Charms, Potions, and Transfiguration," Ginny sighed.

"Don't forget the History of Magic paper," Colin added.

Ginny slammed her head on the table in response. Her hair created a wall of orange around her face, but Marigold knew exactly what face she was making under there.

Marigold just chuckled, "I told you there was going to be a ton of homework, Ginny."

"I think all of this is amazing!" Colin said, excitedly.

"That's because it's all so new," Marigold said. "Last year Hermione and I were the top of the class, and honestly I think it's because of our Muggle-born status."

"Why do you say that?" Ginny asked, lifting her head.

"Well, everything is just so new and fascinating." Marigold paused to think. "Those who come from magical backgrounds, and have grown up knowing about magic, no offence, but you seem to miss the, well _, magic_ of it. For us Muggle-borns, everything is new and exciting! We want to learn as much as we can, so we dive into the homework grasping every bit of magic we can get our hands onto.

"Especially first years; I was so hungry for every ounce of magical knowledge because magic still felt like a dream. My situation at home aside, the idea that magic exists, let alone that you can possess it, is a dream come true for all Muggle-borns, not just myself."

"I never thought about it that way," Ginny said, thoughtfully.

"What do you mean 'your situation'?" Colin asked.

"We should work on Potions first, since that will be the most difficult," Ginny said, giving Marigold a knowing look.

"Agreed, Snape is the worst with homework." Marigold smiled back at Ginny.

Marigold, having known that Ginny would probably need help, had packed all her old notes from last year. She grabbed those from her bag and the three of them set off to work.

Marigold helped them with the twelve uses of dragon's blood, doing her best to help them find the answers, while not giving them to them. Colin was getting used to writing with a quill and ink, but his handwriting had a long way to go. His notes were barely legible and he kept smudging his homework, which Marigold knew Snape would mark off on.

Marigold took several minutes teaching Colin how to hold his quill in a way that wouldn't smudge the wet ink.  
"It's completely different than a pen or pencil," she explained. "You need to hold it like this." She demonstrated with her own hand on her quill.

"This way?" he asked, repositioning his fingers.

"That way would get rid of the smudging issue, but you would get the worst hand cramps. Here, let me show you." Marigold set down her own quill and quickly repositioned Colin's fingers.

"There you go," she said, after he had written a sentence without smudging. "And don't forget to re-dip your quill, you don't want to run out of ink and have it look scratchy."

"Thanks, Marigold," Colin said, smiling.

"Of course! It took me and Harry a few weeks of ink black hands and painful writs before we figured this out."

After potions they worked on memorizing the Transfiguration formula and the seven classifications of spells.

"Wait, so a jinx is darker than a hex?" Colin asked, confused.

"No, a jinx is less than a hex and a hex doesn't even match up to a curse," Ginny corrected.

"Exactly. This was on the final exam for the class last year, so do your best to memorize these and be able to give examples."

"Like the bat bogey hex," Ginny said with a grin.

Last, but not least, Marigold helped them write their paper on Elfric the Eager, which was somehow more boring than it had been when she had done it. One would think that a paper on a revolt would be interesting, but somehow Binns made everything mundane.

It was half past noon when the three of them made their way to the Gryffindor common room, exhausted but content with all the work they had gotten done. Ginny said a quick thank you, then made her way up to her dorm. Colin mentioned something about writing to his brother, said his thanks, and then disappeared as well.

Harry and Neville were nowhere to be seen, so Marigold decided she would sit down and write to Charlie, not having done so since she had gotten back to Hogwarts.

 _Dear Charlie,_

 _It's been awhile since I last wrote to you, classes have been so crazy this year already, and we've only been back a week! Ginny seems to be settling in really well, she's already made a friend! His name is Colin and he's Muggleborn like me. He seems really nice, and the two of them get on great._

 _Harry, Neville and I finally got around to birthday presents, and Harry got me the most amazing hair tie. It's a little rose gold dragon with opals for eyes. He wakes up and wraps itself around my hair then falls asleep holding its tail. He's really cold in the morning._

 _Speaking of birthday presents… I got a letter from my dad on my birthday. I don't really know how to put all of this into words; I think I've rewritten this letter five times by now, and it still doesn't really sound right to me._

 _I haven't really talked to anyone about the letter except Headmaster Dumbledore, who, as you already know from last year, likes to talk to me since I'm the only scholarship student. He said that I should talk to someone about it. I don't want to worry Harry and Neville about this because they have school to worry about… I don't really want to worry you about it either though…_

 _But Dumbledore is right, it's been eating me up inside, and I really should talk to someone about it…_

 _So here it goes._

 _Last year, after Professor McGonagall came to pick me up for Hogwarts, after I came to live with you and your family, my dad called my mother (over the telephone, it's a Muggle device that allows you to talk to a person in real time, rather than over a letter). He told her that I was finally gone; after all, I was the reason she left in the first place. Since I was gone, the two of them decided to get together and catch up…_

 _They are remarried now, and I have a little brother named Florian. I think he's about five months old now, and according to dad he doesn't have an ounce of magic in him._

 _I really have no idea how I should feel about this, Charlie. I mean, he's going to have a completely normal childhood, something I didn't have, so I mean I'm happy for him? But, at the same time… he's going to have a completely normal childhood… and I'm jealous… am I being selfish? Is it bad of me to be jealous of my baby brother because he is going to have a good life?_

 _I mean look at me, I have written this letter over and over again, not sure if I even want to tell you about him because I feel guilty. I feel guilty for being jealous, for being mad that he will have what I wanted for so long. I haven't told my best friends about this, sure because I don't want to bother them, but mostly because I don't even know if I'm a good person anymore… I just feel so guilty…_

 _Believe it or not, this letter used to be a lot more incoherent. I hope it still makes sense, and I hope I'm not wasting your time…_

 _With love,_

 _Marigold_

Marigold looked down at the letter. When she had initially decided to write to Charlie, she had just intended to talk about school and her friends. Now, who knows how much later, she finally had a letter that had all her pent up feelings poured onto the pages. Dumbledore _had_ been right, she really did need someone to talk to.

With tears in the corners of her eyes, she made her way to the Owlery and sent the letter off with a pretty barn owl. When the owl was finally out of sight, Marigold felt lighter, like all the weight that had been on her for the last few months had somewhat lifted.

When she got back to the Gryffindor common room, Neville and Harry were back from wherever they had been. Marigold sat next to them, and the three of them talked about nothing in particular until Marigold had to go to bed several hours and a dinner later.

Monday morning, Marigold woke up and got dressed as usual. She noticed that her hair was longer than she remembered it being. It was halfway down to her elbows; when had that happened, she wondered? She supposed she hadn't noticed since it was always up in a ponytail. With a shrug, she combed it back and put in the rose gold dragon, which was just as cold as it always was.

As she waited for Neville and Harry, she thought more about the voice Harry had heard, and what it could mean. By the time Neville and Harry made their way, yawning and stretching, to the common room, Marigold's thoughts had wandered to the letter, and when she would hear back from Charlie.

They ate breakfast quickly; Neville got a parcel from his grandmother containing the several pairs of socks he had forgotten at home, and then the three of them were off to the Herbology greenhouse.

The other students looked just as tired as Marigold felt. One of the Hufflepuff boys was even dozing off. The first week at school had been difficult, and everyone had done a ton of homework over the weekend.

Professor Sprout walked in looking chipper, and clapped her hands, giving all of them quite the start.

"While we wait for the Mandrakes to mature, we will be reviewing the severing charm and then commenting on what it's used against. Does anyone remember the incantation for the severing charm?"

Several hands went into the air, Marigold's included.

"Yes, Susan?" Professor Sprout called.

"Diffindo," she said confidently.

"Correct, five points to Hufflepuff. Now, who can tell me what a Bowtruckle is? Yes, Neville?"

"A Bowtruckle is a small stick-like creature made of bark and twigs," Neville paused, looking around the room nervously. "They live in the trees whose wood can be used to make wands."

"Exactly, five points to Gryffindor. Now, we won't be using the severing charm on Bowtruckles, ourselves, but we will be reviewing and using the charm this week. And you have to write one foot on how and why it is used on Bowtruckles, due Thursday."

A groan escaped nearly everyone in the classroom, but Professor Sprout chose to ignore them.

For the rest of the class, Harry, Neville, and Marigold worked on severing the vines that Professor Sprout had provided. Marigold noticed that her planner was flashing her new homework.

After Herbology, the three of them made their way to double History of Magic with the Ravenclaws. If Marigold thought that everyone looked tired in Herbology, it was nothing compared to History of Magic. About five minutes into the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards, the only two who were awake and able to take notes were Hermione and herself. And the two of them were having a difficult time as it was.

When the class was over, Marigold had to shake Neville and Harry awake.

"Come on! It's lunchtime!" Marigold heard Hermione say to Ron, who was also asleep. "Honestly!"

With more food in their stomachs, they were finally able to wake up.

Transfiguration was just more review, but at least everyone seemed to be awake. After copying down countless notes, class ended and Marigold stretched, popping her shoulder.

"We have a free period next, we should probably get started on the paper Professor Sprout gave us," Marigold said.

"But it's due Thursday, we have three days to work on it," Harry said with a groan.

"Yes, but we have several other classes this week and they will probably all give us either homework or something to study. Besides, you have Quidditch practice all the time, Harry, that will eat up time you could be doing homework," Marigold said, trying to be reasonable.

"Marigold's right. Besides, we have potions after that, and I just know Snape is going to be worse this year than last year." Neville sighed.

"Fine, but unlike the two of you, I still have no idea what a Bowtruckle is."

By the end of their free period, they were nearly done with the assignment. They only had two inches to go when they rolled up their parchment and made their way to the dungeons for Potions.

They had gone to potions last week and simply been reviewing things they had learned last year. Snape had pretty much ignored the three of them, which Marigold knew was going to change at some point. It was just a matter of when, or what, would set him off.

They had Potions with the Slytherins again this year, and as the three of them walked into the classroom, they did their best to ignore Malfoy and his stooges.

Marigold sat next to Dean Thomas, who had been her potions partner last year. Dean was having a rather loud discussion with his best friend Seamus, but Marigold didn't bother paying attention, and turned toward Harry and Neville.

"What do you suppose we will have to do today?" Neville asked, looking a little green.

"Well, we've been doing review since we got here, so probably more of that," Harry answered.

Marigold was about to agree when Professor Snape swept into the room, robes billowing out behind him. Marigold turned around, and Dean promptly finished his conversation and turned as well.

"Today we will be learning about the Sleeping Draught, so named because it causes the drinker to fall almost instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep. One of several Sleeping Potions, this one is one of the more simple ones." Snape paused, everyone was fumbling for quills and parchment, and he did not enjoy the rustling interruption.

"Can anyone tell me why a witch or wizard would choose to use this potion?" Snape asked, once the scratching of quills had stopped.

Marigold, along with several Slytherin and Gryffindor students, raised her hand.

"Miss Rosenberg?"

"Last year, I saw Madam Pomfrey give several older students this potion to help them sleep during their N.E.W.T's," Marigold said, surprised he had called on her over one of his own students.

"Correct, this potion is very helpful for witches and wizards who are very stressed or anxious."

"No self respecting wizard would need that then," Malfoy said in a loud whisper.

"Today we will learn how to brew this potion," Snape said, ignoring Malfoy. "And you will have a paper due Thursday on its uses."

Everyone groaned, but Snape flipped over the blackboard and everyone had to quickly get the instructions written down in their notes. It was a rather simple potion to make, Marigold noticed; none of the ingredients were particularly volatile or unusual.

Marigold made sure to copy the instructions down exactly as they were, knowing that she would probably miss something if she tried to abbreviate things. She made a mental note to look over the notes Percy gave her, in case there were any tips on this potion.

When class ended, everyone gathered their things and left the room. Snape didn't say anything more, and Marigold's planner was flashing with her new homework. When the three of them got back to the common room, they weren't the only ones who started on the potions homework right away.

The next few days went by in a blur. Marigold woke up early every morning, like usual, but once breakfast ended and she still didn't have a letter from Charlie, the rest of the day would just melt together. Charlie usually took at least three days to get back to her, but that was the bare minimum; usually it took a lot longer. So when she woke up Thursday morning and still didn't have a letter, her heart sank again.

Maybe she had been a bother.

Her morning classes went by in another blur, she took her notes and completed her practical lessons, but her head wasn't in it. She was thinking about how she probably shouldn't have annoyed Charlie. After all, he did have a very demanding job.

Herbology melted into Charms, which melted into History of Magic, and then suddenly she was back in the Great Hall, trying to drink her orange juice with a spoon.

"You know there are more effective ways to drink orange juice, right?" Harry asked, looking at her with amusement.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, dropping the spoon and blushing.

"Are you okay, Marigold?" Neville asked, setting down his sandwich. "You have been out of sorts since Tuesday."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stressed about classes I guess," she lied, picking up her own untouched sandwich.

"Same here, I'm not at all looking forward to double potions next." Neville sighed.

"At least it's almost the weekend," Harry said half-heartedly.

"I guess, but don't you have Quidditch practice on Saturday?" Marigold asked.

Harry groaned. "On top of so much homework too!"

"We told you Quidditch would eat up your time," Neville said, laughing.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, we need to get going if we're gonna make it to Potions on time." Harry stuffed his last bite into his mouth, and then gathered his things. Neville and Marigold followed.

Snape's classroom was just as dingy and slimy as ever. After setting her essay on Snape's desk, along with all the other essays, Marigold made her way back to her desk, which was set up for brewing. Marigold sat down next to Dean, and the two of them looked curiously at the cauldrons in front of them.

"I suppose we will be making the Sleeping Draught today, then," Marigold said, nodding to the cauldrons.

"Suppose so, but the ingredients aren't here," Dean answered.

"He'll probably make us get them from storage based on memory or something. After all, it seams like we aren't working together like we usually do."

The room was filling up, and judging from the chatter, Marigold wasn't the only one who came to that conclusion. Almost everyone was pouring over what notes they had taken, desperately trying to memorize the Sleeping Draught.

"Here, Malfoy, I copied all my notes," Marigold heard Pansy Parkinson say as she handed Malfoy a piece of parchment with frilly handwriting on it.  
"How am I supposed to read this?" Malfoy spat back.

Snape walked into the room moments later, and a hush went over the students as he made his way to the front of the classroom.

"As you have probably gathered, you will be preparing the Sleeping Draught today. You will be working on your own, using the notes I provided you on Monday. While the notes I provided you will make the potion, I hope you looked up additional instructions to help clarify how to make the potion. Now, if you did a poor job taking notes, neglected to look up additional notes, or took none at all, you are still expected to brew the perfect potion.

"Any potion earning less than an E, automatically fails. And remember, a correctly brewed Sleeping Draught will be dark purple in color. You have until the end of class. Begin."

There was a mad dash to the pantry for the required ingredients. But Marigold hung back and reviewed her notes further. She had indeed gone and found Percy's notes on the potion, and had added those in the margins over her own notes:

 _1._ _Add 4 sprigs of Lavender to the mortar._

 _2._ _Add 2 measures of the Standard Ingredient to the mortar._

 _3._ _Crush into a creamy paste using the pestle. (It should be fine like confectioners sugar)_

 _4._ _Add two blobs of Flobberworm mucus to your cauldron. (Stir quickly until mucus is frothy)_

 _5._ _Add two measures of Standard Ingredient straight into your cauldron._

 _6._ _Gently heat for 30 seconds._

 _7._ _(Remove from heat and) add 3 measures of the creamy paste into your cauldron._

 _8._ _Wave your wand._

 _9._ _Leave to brew and return in 70 minutes. (Return in 59 minutes if you are using a pewter standard size 2)._

 _10._ _Add 2 measures of Standard Ingredient to your cauldron._

 _11._ _Heat on high temperature for 1 minute._

 _12._ _Add 4 Valerian Sprigs to your cauldron._

 _13._ _Stir 7 times, clockwise._

 _14._ _Wave your wand to complete the potion._

After determining what she needed, and how much to get, Marigold made her way to the pantry. She knew she had more than enough time to brew the potion, so she allowed herself to relax.

As Marigold prepped her lavender and Standard Ingredient, some students already had their cauldrons on the fire. Marigold looked around the room and was relieved to see that Harry and Neville seemed to know what they were doing. She was equally relieved to see that Pansy and Malfoy looked completely lost.

When she was confident that the paste was the correct consistency, Marigold placed it to the side. She began adding and frothing the Flobberworm mucus. Marigold felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed Professor Snape staring at her. She looked up, but in the split second it took to actually look at him, he had turned away.

With an awkward shiver, Marigold prepped the rest of the potion and set a timer for fifty-nine minutes.

She could hear her classmates whispering amongst themselves, but after a few points were taken away from Gryffindor for "exchanging information" the only noise came from the Slytherins. Marigold decided it would be best if she just kept her head down and watched her potion.

Because of her late start, Marigold took her cauldron off the heat at the same time as a lot of the other students. Marigold's potion was already a really dark purple, which looked promising. Neville's was purple, but not very dark at all, same with Harry and Dean's. The only other potion that looked even remotely as dark as Marigold's, was Hermione's.

Snape had moved from his desk at the front of the classroom, and was making his way around the classroom, stopping to give feedback to a lot of the students, especially the ones doing poorly. When he got to Marigold's potion, which she was just about done with, just three more clockwise stir's to go, he paused, but moved on without saying anything at all.

With a few minutes left, Marigold and most of the other students transferred their potions into vials and went to present them to Professor Snape.

Malfoy received an E, which was ridiculous because his potion was black, not dark purple. Harry also scraped by with an E, but Professor Snape made sure to tell him that he had barely made the cut. Hermione got a solid E, which she didn't seem too happy about at all, but her potion did look really good. Neville outright failed, and so did Dean. But Neville, unlike Dean, was ridiculed in front of everyone, and his vial poured all over the floor.

Marigold was one of the last students to bring her vial up to professor Snape. She was livid at his treatment of her friends, especially Neville who was doing his best to clean the sticky, milky purple potion from the floor. She had to stop herself from throwing the vial at Professor Snape, but only succeeded in jamming it in his hand.

"Well done, Miss. Rosenberg. You must have looked up additional notes, the only student to have done so much." His voice was cold, his praise unwanted. "We have our very first O."

"Thanks," she said coldly, before helping Neville up off the floor and turning around to leave the classroom. Harry followed closely behind.

When they were finally out of the dungeons, Marigold let go of Neville's arm and clenched her fists.

"Ohhh, how I'd like to—where does he get off on—if I could—UGH!" Marigold was furious, stomping all the way to Gryffindor tower. "He had no right treating you like that!"

"Password please," the Fat Lady said.

"The potion _was_ completely wrong though," Neville muttered, once they were in the empty common room.

Marigold whirled around. "That doesn't give him any right to treat you like that though! That was so mean! Completely uncalled for! Don't you dare blame yourself!" Marigold yelled.

Neville and Harry exchanged nervous, confused glances.

"He's a teacher! He shouldn't treat students like the way he treats us, he is the absolute worst!"

"Neither of us disagrees with you, Marigold. So could you stop screaming?" Harry asked.

Marigold stopped. She felt tears welling up in her eyes; fighting them back she turned around.

"Sorry. I think I'm going to go up to my dormitory and do some reading. Don't mind me."

Without waiting for an answer, she ran up the stairs. Flopping down on her bed, she couldn't fight the tears anymore. All the emotions she had felt since the letter from her dad, since talking to Dumbledore, since writing to Charlie, came bursting out.

She curled up under the covers and cried for a long time, until she couldn't cry anymore. Her throat was sore, her face was warm, and her eyes were really puffy. She sat up, and her pillow looked like a wet snotty mess. Numb, but feeling a little better, she went to the bathroom and washed up.

Looking in the mirror she realized she owed the boys an apology. And although she didn't want to go back downstairs looking like a mess, they deserved an apology. She made it halfway down the stairs before she heard the two of them talking.

"She hasn't been herself in days," Neville was saying.

"I know, but what are we supposed to do about it?" Harry asked.

Marigold pressed herself against the staircase wall. She didn't mean to listen in, but now she was hooked.

"I don't know, but we need to do something! She was trying to eat orange juice with a spoon this morning, and I don't think she even ate at all yesterday. She's off in her own world and has been since Saturday, remember how she was zoning out the whole time we talked.

"I thought nothing of it because she was back to normal Monday… but as soon as Tuesday rolled around, she was back to zoning out." Neville sighed. "I just wish I knew what to do."

"I asked Colin yesterday if anything happened Saturday while they were studying, but he said it was completely normal."

Marigold stopped listening. She made her way back up the stairs, not really paying attention to where her feet were taking her. They had been worrying about her. Of course they would worry about her. But they had been so worried that they had asked people if anything had happened.  
Marigold felt horrible. But at the same time, she had no idea what to do about it. She couldn't exactly tell them what had been going on, that she was waiting for Charlie to write her back. She would have to tell them what she had told Charlie, and she didn't want to burden them too. She was already worrying them; she couldn't put more of her problems on them.

Marigold would just have to pretend that everything was okay. She could do that; she would just pretend that she had never sent a letter to Charlie. She would also have to stop going through the days in a daze.

That would be manageable, right?

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please like and favorite if you enjoyed the story. And if you can spare a moment, please leave a review! I love hearing from all of you!)


	8. Death Party? Sounds About Right

(A/N: I'm back everyone! I have finished the book so updates will be less sporadic from here on out. A special thank you to the amazing geneviveyoung for editing this so well. And now, posted on Marigold and Harry's birthday, please enjoy the next chapter. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

October rolled around, and Marigold still hadn't heard from Charlie. She was doing her best to act normal, but as the days blurred by she felt more and more like she was slipping. On the outside, she was doing her best to keep Harry and Neville from worrying. She probably wasn't doing a good job though; she seemed to catch them exchanging nervous glances all the time.

She couldn't help it though; every day that passed with no letter dropping in from an owl further convinced her that she had screwed things up and had crossed the line with Charlie. What other reason could there be? She doubted she would receive a letter after nearly three weeks' time.

She ended up worrying herself into catching a cold. Luckily, it seemed to be going around, and with a bit of Pepperup Potion from Madam Pomfrey, she wasn't the only one with steam coming out of her ears.

Marigold wasn't the only one having a rough time of things. Harry was constantly out on the Quidditch pitch, even though October had brought rainstorms with it. Marigold and Neville did their best to help him keep up on homework, but classes were getting harder and harder by the day.

Snape hadn't gone easy on them after over half the class had failed the Sleeping Draught. They had spent the next few lessons going over the rudimentary aspects of potion making, and they had been assigned a three-foot essay on the importance of a properly brewed potion and the disastrous effects of getting one wrong.

All the Slytherin's picked on Neville because of the essay, even though he wasn't the only student who had failed. But he _had_ been the only student whose potion had been dumped onto the floor, so they took it out on him. Marigold and Harry did their best to cheer him up, but he still blamed himself for the essay as well.

For a while, Marigold helped Ginny and Colin with their homework, mostly to keep herself occupied. But as the weeks went on, Ginny would find a last minute excuse to get out of the study session. This meant Colin would walk into the library alone, and the two of them would just work on their own homework.

Marigold liked Colin a lot, and even though his constant fidgeting with his camera or even the candid pictures she sometimes caught him taking, could be a little annoying, she didn't mind the one-on-one study sessions. Especially since he didn't look at her like Harry and Neville had begun to. She missed spending time with Ginny, though. The bond they had developed over the summer seemed to be slipping away with every missed study session.

Colin and Marigold were working in the library one rainy Friday morning, two weeks before Halloween. Marigold was helping Colin with some of his Transfiguration homework. All of a sudden, Marigold was struck with the thought that maybe Charlie had written to Ginny. After all, she still hung out with Colin sometimes, but was avoiding Marigold. Marigold also realized that Fred and George had been too busy recently to hang out with her. Ron never really paid attention to her in the first place, but even he was barely acknowledging her existence.

Maybe Charlie had told everyone about her, maybe even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Maybe Marigold really was a horrible, jealous person and maybe they wouldn't want her back next summer…

"Marigold, are you okay?" Colin asked, returning Marigold to the real world.

"Huh?"

"Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Oh, yeah," she said, snapping back to reality. "I just remembered that I forgot to do my Astronomy homework due tonight." It wasn't exactly a lie; she _had_ forgotten to do it.

"Did you bring it with you? You could work on that while I work my way through this," he said, gesturing to his transfiguration homework.

"Oh, that's okay. If I forgot to do it, then there's no way Harry or Neville remembered. We'll work on it together later tonight," Marigold said with a shrug.

"Harry's a really cool guy!" Colin said, putting down his quill.

Marigold noticed absentmindedly that he was already doing significantly better at writing, his papers were hardly ever smudged anymore.

"I heard from some of the kids in your year about what you guys and Neville did last year!"

"Oh yeah?" Marigold suddenly felt more tired than before. She hadn't thought about _that_ in awhile.

"Someone said Harry fought off six trolls and a giant!" Colin was rambling off, and while Marigold didn't feel like correcting him, she did find it amazing how far the story had been stretched.

"Of course I know what actually happened, or at least parts of it," Colin said, but then his face went rather red. "I asked Ginny if the stories I'd heard were true, and she told me some of the things you had told her… but she said not to talk about it unless you brought it up… oops… Sorry, Marigold," Colin said sheepishly.

"I see…"

"Anyway, let's go on back to homework…" Colin sounded like he regretted bringing it up at all.

"Okay." Marigold felt a little guilty for not being engaging.

Later that night, as Marigold and the boys worked on how to locate constellations for Astronomy class, Marigold felt herself slipping again. It didn't help that Astronomy lasted a little longer than usual, and she wasn't back in bed until way later than one in the morning.

As she stared up at the canopy above her bed, she wondered half-heartedly if she would maybe, finally, get a letter from Charlie tomorrow. But it had been seven weeks, why should she expect to get a letter at this point? What was the point of holding on to something that wouldn't come?

Saturday morning she woke up and washed off her face. It was exactly a week until Halloween, and though the rest of the castle was abuzz, Marigold could hardly find the energy to bother with a holiday. Marigold looked into the mirror and supposed that red, puffy eyes were just going to be part of her face from now on.

Her cheeks were a little sharp; she looked like Harry had when she and the others had rescued him from his aunt and uncle. When was the last time she actually ate more than a couple bites? She didn't feel hungry though, she actually felt more nauseous than anything.

Every morning was the same: she woke up, stared at her blotchy thinning face, dreaded going down to the Great Hall, ended up going anyway just to look up at the owls and realize that nothing was going to drop on her plate. Then she might eat a bite or two before pushing away her food and wanting to cry.

She pulled up her hair into a ponytail, but realized she had accidently left the rose gold dragon next to her bed; so, with a shrug, she just decided to leave her hair down. After all, it made her face less noticeable.

The boys met her in the common room half an hour later, and the three of them made their way to breakfast.

"You should really wear your hair down more often, Marigold," Neville said. Had Marigold bothered to turn and look at him, she would have seen a faint blush in his cheeks.

"You think so?" she asked, grabbing her hair to look for split ends. She found several, sighed, and dropped it.

"I agree, it looks nice," Harry said, doing his best to stifle a yawn.

"I mean I guess I could," she paused, thinking of the rose gold dragon, "but you just got me such a nice gift, Harry. I should try to use it a bit more."

Harry just shrugged in response

The three of them sat down in the great hall. There weren't many students there yet, so it looked rather empty. Marigold noticed Ginny a little ways down the table. Marigold noticed that she didn't look well; her face looked a little white, she was probably stressed about classes or something…

Marigold grabbed a piece of toast and some tangerine marmalade. She didn't even bother to look up when the owls started arriving with the mail. Marigold herd letters and parcels dropped to the students; they sometimes crashed into a bowl of eggs or knocked over a goblet. The fluttering and crashing stopped ,and Marigold sat her toast down and didn't bother to pick it back up again.

Why did she even listen to Dumbledore? She never should have sent that bloody letter to Charlie.

Ignoring the protests of Harry and Neville, Marigold got up and retreated back to the dormitory. She considered, for the thousandth time, writing another letter to Charlie to apologize, or at least try to explain herself better, something. She ended up sitting in front of the fire until Neville came back from breakfast, instead.

He didn't say anything, of course. He and Harry had long since ran out of ideas on how to get her to talk.

"Harry went to Quidditch practice," he said, plopping down next to her.

"Doesn't Wood know we have a ton of homework?" she sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest, not bothering to look away from the fire.

If she had she would have seen the sad, worried expression on Neville's face; an expression that had shown up on his face days before the puffy eyes and sallow cheeks had on hers.

"Probably not…"  
"Want me to look over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paper?"

Marigold traded looking at the fire to looking over his paper. It was terrible.

"Honestly, Neville, did you even read Gadding with Ghouls?" Marigold sighed, after reading through his paper.

"What do you think?" Neville asked, sarcastically, throwing a crumpled up piece of parchment into the fireplace.

"You could have at least skimmed through it," she was so tired, "Lockhart might be a dunce, but he did write the book so he knows if you didn't even open it. This is just paragraphs of sucking up and telling him what a good teacher he is."

Neville laughed. "I'm not even sure what his grading scale is. I'm sure if I just flatter him enough he will give me a good grade and I can fly through the class."  
"Be that as it may, you should at least try."

Neville was about to say something, but he didn't get the chance, because a very disgruntled and muddy Harry climbed through the portrait hole.

Knowing there was no point in arguing anymore, Marigold put Neville's paper away.  
"What's up, Harry, you look like crap," Neville said with a grin.  
"I just had a weird experience with Filch and Nearly Headless Nick," Harry said, pushing his dripping hair out of his face and waltzing over to the fire to dry off.

"Do tell," Marigold said.  
"Well, I was tracking in mud from the Quidditch Pitch when I ran in to Nick. He was really upset because he can't be a part of the headless hunt club thing."

"Part of what?" Neville asked.  
"It's exactly what it sounds like. The ghosts play games like Head Polo," Harry clarified, looking kind of nauseous. "Anyway, Mrs. Norris found me and my mud and ran off and got Filch. I tried to make a run for it, but I got caught and he took me to his office.

"He got distracted by something outside and I got to take a look at something called a Kwikspell he had out on his desk."  
"Really?" Neville interrupted.

"What's a Kwikspell?" Harry and Marigold asked in unison.

"It's a beginners course for magic," Neville explained. "It's for Squibs to learn magic, which is impossible because Squibs don't have any magic. My gran says that it's a big scam that preys on desperate people."

"Well, because I saw the letter, Filch got really angry and embarrassed and I got pushed out of his office. Turns out Nick convinced Peeves to make a ruckus. I said thanks of course… but then I did something I kind of regret… So, Nick's five hundredth deathday party is coming up, and he invited us and I said we would go."  
"That was nice of you Harry, when is it?" Marigold asked.  
"Halloween," he sighed. "We're going to miss the feast."

Marigold felt like a deathday party was quite apropos since she was beginning to look like death itself. She was kind of glad to not be going to the Halloween feast, the idea of that much food in front of her made her feel ill. Harry, however, seemed to be regretting his commitment to the party with each passing day. The whole school seemed to be itching with anticipation for Halloween night.  
The Great Hall had been decorated with live bats, and Hagrid's ginormous pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three grown men to sit in. Having missed last year's Halloween feast, Marigold saw what the castle was excited about.

At seven o'clock, as all the other students made their way to the feast, Marigold, Neville, and Harry walked past the Great Hall and headed toward the dungeons instead. The passageway leading there was decorated as well, but the candles cast a dim, ghostly light onto their faces instead of bright cheerful light. The temperature dropped with each step they took.

The three of them paused when they heard what sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping an enormous blackboard. The three of them exchanged glances, Neville looked like he wanted to run back to the Great Hall, Harry looked like he wanted to join him. Marigold just pressed on with a shrug.

Marigold turned a corner, Harry and Neville reluctantly at her heels, and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing at a doorway hung with black velvet drapes.

"My dear friends," he said mournfully. "Welcome, welcome, I am so pleased you could come.  
He swept off his plumed hat and bowed them inside.  
It was amazing. The whole room was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people. They were mostly drifting around a crowded dance floor, waltzing to the dreadful, quavering sound of thirty musical saws, played by an orchestra on a raised, black-draped platform. A chandelier overhead blazed midnight blue with a thousand candles. Their breath rose in a mist before them; it was like stepping into a freezer.

"Should we look around?" Harry asked.  
"Just make sure you don't walk through anyone," Marigold whispered.

They walked passed a lot of ghosts they didn't know, but several they did recognize. The Fat Friar, a cheerful Hufflepuff ghost was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead. All the other ghosts were avoiding the Bloody Baron, a gaunt, staring Slytherin ghost covered in silver bloodstains. Not that any of them were surprised by this, he was an intimidating ghost.

Marigold noticed the ghost of a girl a couple years older than herself. If it weren't for her being translucent and floating along aimlessly, Marigold would have sworn she was alive. Unlike most of the other ghosts who had missing heads or bloodstains or other indicators to their death, this girl looked perfectly fine.

Neville and Harry were making their way towards a long table at the other end of the room. Marigold followed, but they stopped a ways away when the smell hit them. Not daring to go closer, they noticed that all the food was rotting. A ghost passed through the table, mouth open as if he were trying to eat, but none of the food disappeared. He slumped as if defeated and floated away.

Marigold heard a wail coming from behind her and whirled around. She noticed that Peeves was laughing at the girl she had noticed earlier. Leaving the boys to gawk at the table of rotting food, Marigold carefully walked through the crowd not wanting to walk through anyone.

As she got closer, the girl came more into focus. She had a round face that was hidden behind lank hair and thick pearly spectacles. She was sniffing and trying to hold it together, but Peeves was chanting something rather rude.

"Moaning Myrtle, moaning Myrtle, are you going to cry, Myrtle?" He said it over and over again.  
Marigold got there just before the girl started wailing.  
Peeves cackled and left, leaving Myrtle behind sobbing.

"Uh, hello, Myrtle. I'm Marigold." Marigold said, hesitant and unsure what to say next.

"Have you come over here to tease me too?" she asked through hiccoughs.  
"Why would I want to tease you?" Marigold asked, confused.  
"Because everyone teases _me_! It's always fat Myrtle! Ugly Myrtle! Miserable, moaning, moping Myrtle!" she wailed.

"You forgot pimply!" Peeves hissed in her ear, appearing out of nowhere.

Myrtle burst into anguished sobs and before Marigold could say anything at all to comfort her she fled from the dungeon. Deflated, Marigold went back to the boys who were talking with Nearly Headless Nick. He was saying something about a speech when a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman, burst through the dungeon wall. Nick looked murderous.  
The horses galloped into the middle for the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging. At the front of the pack was a large ghost who held his bearded head under his arm, from which position he as blowing a horn. The ghost leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone but Nick and the three of them laughed), and strode over to Nearly Headless Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck with a squelching noise.

"Nick!" he roared. "How are you? Head still hanging in there?"

He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Nearly Headless Nick on the shoulder.

"Welcome, Patrick" Nick said, stiffly.

"Live'uns!" Sir Patrick said, spotting Marigold, Harry, and Neville and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again. Neville and Harry looked a little sick but the crowd howled with laughter.

Marigold stopped listening. She felt tired. She wanted to go to bed. Nick was struggling to recapture his audience. The three of them exchanged glances and quietly backed out of the dungeon. Nobody paid attention to them over the roars of laughter as Sir Patrick's head went sailing over the crowd.

"Maybe there's still dessert at the feast?" Neville said, trying to cheer them up.

Harry froze in front of them. All the color drained from his face. Marigold snapped to attention. Something was wrong.

"Harry, what's—"

"It's the voice," Harry snapped shutting Neville up.

Marigold listened hard, but couldn't hear anything at all. Harry looked up, a look of confusion plastered on his face.  
"This way!" he shouted, and then he was off.

Without exchanging glances, Marigold and Neville took off after him. He ran up the stairs, and they followed. He ran into the entrance hall where he stopped, Marigold couldn't hear anything over the babble of talk from the Halloween feast echoing out of the Great Hall. He took off again, sprinting up the marble staircase to the first floor.

"Harry!"  
But Harry cut Neville off again, with a hush.

Harry turned green. "It's going to kill someone!" he shouted and ran up the next flight of steps.  
Marigold grabbed her wand out of her robe and raced after him, Neville close at her heels.  
Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor; the two of them followed him, not stopping until he turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.  
"Harry I couldn't hear anything!" Neville panted.

Marigold felt a hitch in her breath, something tasted weird in the air. Ignoring the questions from Neville and Harry, she walked forward. Something was shining on the wall ahead. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

"What is that? Hanging underneath?" Harry breathed.

Neville almost slipped; there was a large puddle of water on the floor. Harry grabbed him and hung back as Marigold inched forward, wand out in front of her. With a sickening realization she jumped back.  
"It's Mrs. Norris!"

She was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

"We need to go," Marigold said, turning away from the writing and the cat.

"Shouldn't we try to help?" Harry began awkwardly.

"Marigold's right," Neville said. "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late. A rumble told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the handing cat. Marigold, Neville, and Harry stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet.  
"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

Marigold could have cursed him.

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please like and favorite if you enjoyed the story. And if you can spare a moment, please leave a review! I love hearing from all of you!)


	9. The Writing on the Wall

(A/N: A special thank you to the amazing geneviveyoung for editing this so well on such a busy schedule. I hope you enjoy! Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

Marigold could have cursed him. She should have cursed him. But she didn't get the chance to do so.  
"What's going on here? What's going on?"

Attracted, no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What has happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

His bulging eyes fell on Marigold and the wand in her hand.

" _You!_ " he screeched. She held up her hands in defense and flinched away, Filch momentarily didn't look like himself. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

Filch lunged forward and Marigold jumped back.

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived, followed by a number of teachers. Relief swept over Marigold. In seconds, Dumbledore had swept past Marigold, Harry and Neville, and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mr. Potter, Miss Rosenberg, Mr. Longbottom."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly and Marigold had to fight to keep herself from rolling her eyes.  
"My office is nearest, Headmaster. Please feel free."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said.  
The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Marigold could feel the eyes of hundreds of students on her, but she kept her gaze locked on the back of Dumbledore's head and held her head high as she followed him through the crowd of students. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after them; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Marigold didn't look away from Headmaster Dumbledore and Mrs. Norris. Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore laid Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her.

Marigold heard Harry and Neville sit down in chairs behind her.

The tip of Dumbledore's long crooked nose was barely an inch from the cat's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing an odd expression. He was looking from her to Harry and back again. He was trying to be discrete, of course, but not doing a good job of it. Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her, probably the Transmogrifian Torture, I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very countercurse that would have saved her…"

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry racking sobs. Marigold was growing increasingly uncomfortable. She always did her best to steer clear of Filch and whenever she did accidently encounter him he was nothing but mean. To see him act like this, a crying, pathetic mess it was very awkward to be standing there.

Filch was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Marigold detested Filch, and he had lunged at her earlier, but at the same time, with every smart comment Lockhart made, she wanted to punch the professor.

Though that wouldn't be a smart thing to do. If Dumbledore believed Filch, that she had killed Mrs. Norris, she would be expelled for sure. And who knew what would happen to her if she got expelled, she wouldn't go back to the Weasley's that was for sure. She was only there because she was on a scholarship, they wouldn't keep her if she was expelled. Marigold was holding her breath, her whole body trembled at the possibility of nevering returning to Hogwarts again. What would even happen to her, would she ever be allowed to use magic again?

Dumbledore was muttering under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing was happening she continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

Where would she even go if she got expelled? Hogwarts was her home, there was _nowhere_ else to go! Would she have to go live with her parents? No. No way. She was definitely not going to go back _there_. She couldn't, she wouldn't go back.

Filch's racking sobs weren't helping the matter. Marigold ventured a look at Neville and Harry, they looked as nervous as she felt. Neville looked particularly out of place. His round face was pale and he was gently swaying. Harry just looked nervous and confused. Marigold was sure he was confused about the voice he had heard earlier. Marigold just wanted to curl up in her bed far away from the whole situation, pretend it had never happened. She _really_ wanted to talk to Charlie. All of this was just too much!  
"… I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadougou," Lockhart said, "a series of attacks, the full story is in my autobiography, I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared up the matter at once…"

What if all three of them got expelled? Well, Harry probably wouldn't get expelled, but she and Neville could...

At last Dumbledore straightened up.  
"She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.  
Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented. Marigold, allowing herself to breathe again, felt her knees buckling. She was relieved to hear that Mrs. Norris was ok, and with that revelation all her worries of expulsion disappeared. She was also really relieved that Lockhart had shut up; his blabbering had only added to her stress.

"Not dead?" Filch choked, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why is she all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," Dumbledore said ("Ah! I thought so!" Lockhart interjected...). "But how, I cannot say…"

"Ask _her_! Her wand was out and everything!" shrieked Filch, his blotched and tearstained face glaring at her.

"No second year could have done this," Dumbledore assured him. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"  
"Well then ask _him_!" Filch screamed turning to Harry. "He just found out, he just saw—he knows I'm a squib!"

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Harry said loudly, looking really uncomfortable that the attention had turned to him.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," Snape said, emerging from the shadows. Marigold's heart sank; nothing good would come from Snape's mouth.  
"Potter, Rosenberg and Longbottom could have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth giving away his true thoughts on the matter. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren't they at the Halloween feast?"

"We were at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party. There were hundreds of ghosts, if you want to ask around," Marigold said coolly.

"But why not join the feast afterward?" Snape asked, his cold, black eyes glittering. "Why go up to that corridor?"

Harry started sputtering.

"Because I'm tired and wanted to go to bed, but they were trying to convince me to go," Marigold lied.

She hoped her physical appearance would help sell the lie.

"We will be able to cure Mrs. Norris," Dumbledore said, Snape's eyes turned from hers. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in, probably annoyed that the conversation hadn't been about him for a few moments. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep—"

"Excuse me," Snape said icily, his eyes turning from her to Lockhart. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry, Marigold, and Neville.  
Without question, the three of them left as quickly as they could without running. When they were up a floor from Lockhart's office, Marigold turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them.

"Do you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" Harry asked into the darkness.

"No." it was Neville who beat Marigold to the punch. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign… even here in the wizarding world."

"You do believe me…don't you?"

"Of course, Harry," Marigold whispered. She could feel Neville nod beside her. "But it's weird."

"Of course it's weird," Harry said. "What was that writing on the wall about? 'The Chamber Has Been Opened'… what's that supposed to mean?"

"No idea… but I think I know a bookworm who might," Marigold answered.

A clock chimed somewhere.  
"Midnight," Neville said. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame you two for something else."

Marigold woke up the next morning wanting nothing more than to talk to Charlie about what had happened. She knew he would have something to say, if only they were on talking terms. She had long since given up on him ever writing her again, but this Sunday morning she was desperately wishing for a letter to come.

She waited for the boys to come down and the three of them went to the Great Hall together, none of them saying a word. When they walked in, the already loud room got even louder. Word had spread, and even those who hadn't been in the corridor last night knew what had happened.

Marigold grabbed a piece of toast and some tangerine marmalade. The owls came in and Marigold heard the usual commotion, but she just continued to spread the marmalade on her toast. Marigold had just finished doing so, when the toast was knocked out of her hands.

She couldn't believe her eyes; a letter was face down on her toast. Seconds later, a second letter plopped down, causing her goblet to topple over. With shaking hands she lifted the letters. Even through the orange goo and the pumpkin juice splatters, she could tell who had sent them. Marigold looked up and saw that Harry and Neville were eying her with concerned looks on their faces.

"I have to—I'm going back—" was all she managed to say before jumping up from the table and racing back to her dormitory.

Neville called out, but Marigold didn't stop running until she was back in bed with all her curtains drawn.

She set the letters down and drew her knees close to her. One was from Dumbledore, and she could guess what that was going to be about… but the other one was from Charlie! Should she even read it? What if it was horrible? What if it wasn't? She picked it up and put it back down several times, second-guessing herself every time. Marigold realized that if she didn't read it she would probably go mad. So with a trembling finger, she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

 _Dearest Marigold,_

 _I am so sorry that this took me so long to write. I was very busy with work when you wrote me and I sat your letter on my desk and it got covered by my work. Had I known what you wrote about, I would have read it much sooner! I know it's been eight weeks, but once I read your letter, I had no idea what to say to you, or how to put my thoughts into words. Like your letter to me, this one has been rewritten time and time again. I hope you don't think I have been ignoring you or that I think you are horrible; I have just been trying to do this right. Now I don't know if my words will help you, but here we go._

 _We have talked about a lot of things in the short amount of time we have known each other. And while I know about most of the things you had to go through at home, I can't even begin to understand. I can't say that I know for sure how to even make you feel better._

 _But Marigold, you are not a bad person. It is not selfish of you to want the good childhood your brother will have, one that you never received. You should have had that good childhood; the things your parents did to you were horrible. You are not a terrible person for wanting the love and care you should have had. Don't feel guilty; you are valid._

 _It's true that your brother, Florian, will probably never know you, and it's okay that you are jealous of that. It's also good that you realize, for his sake, that it's a good thing he doesn't have magic like you._

 _You are so mature and so kind. To even be able to think that way, even through the desperate want for the same, shows how caring you are as a person._

 _And I don't know if this helps, but you still have some years left in your childhood, and I know for a fact that mum and dad will give you all the love and care you deserve. They love you, Marigold, and so does everyone in your family: Bill, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, and myself of course. You are a part of this family now, and I'm proud to call you family because of who you are as a person._

 _I'm glad you wrote to me, I care about you and I can only imagine what you are going through, especially since it has taken me so long to respond. I'm not going to tell you that you should go talk to Harry or Neville; I think that should be your decision when and if you tell them._

 _But I think that talking about this with someone would be a good idea. I can be the person you talk to, but I can only do so much over a letter. And while I'm happy to talk to you always and about anything, I think at some point it would be beneficial to talk to someone who can be there in person to tell you things are ok, or to just be the shoulder you cry on._

 _With love,_

 _Charlie_

 _P.S. The dragon hair tie Harry got you for your birthday sounds absolutely amazing. I wonder how it was made and where he got it. You must be a very special person to him to receive a gift like that._

Marigold read and reread the letter over and over again. Charlie wasn't angry! He didn't think she was horrible! He loved her, and best of all, he had called her family. Marigold knew she was crying, but unlike the last eight weeks, she was crying because she was happy. He thought she was a good person, that she wasn't horrible for being jealous.

All the weight that had been on her since her birthday, since finding out about Florian, somehow it had lifted a bit. Even the events of last night seemed like they could be figured out! Charlie was right, she should talk to someone else about this, it didn't have to be now, or even soon, but she knew that if this letter had made her feel this much relief, an actual conversation would probably feel even better.

She had to write him back right away.

 _Dear Charlie,_

 _I'm not going to lie, these last weeks have been really difficult. I thought you weren't writing back because you thought I was a terrible person. I thought you agreed with me, but I was freaking out over nothing. Thing is, I_ _ **know**_ _you are busy, and I feel bad because I didn't even think about that._

 _When I got your letter, I was so relieved. All my worries have slipped away. It's good to know that what I'm feeling is okay._

 _I think you are right. I'm still going to talk to you because I really like talking to you, but I think I might also talk to Harry and Neville. I can't say when, but I think I will._

 _I'm glad we can talk like this, and thank you for supporting me._

 _With love,_

 _Marigold  
P.S. Colin, the friend I mentioned earlier, has, like, several thousand questions about dragons. So, seeing as they were getting in the way of studying, I told him to write them all out. I included them, I know you are busy, but I think you will get a kick out of some of them._

With a satisfied grin, Marigold sealed up her letter to Charlie and placed it aside to mail later. She really did feel better. Maybe she was still confused about Florian and that whole situation… well not maybe, she was. But she felt better about Charlie. He had been busy! Of course he was busy, he had an awesome job and she couldn't expect him to write her back promptly every time.

She turned her attention to the juice stained letter from Dumbledore, slightly uneasy but ready.

 _Miss Rosenberg,_

 _If you could come to my office at your earliest convenience, I would greatly appreciate it. I would like to discuss some things._

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _P.S. The password is_ _Licorice Wands._

Marigold decided it would be best to not keep Dumbledore waiting, even if the note said earliest convenience. So, with plans to swing by the owlery after, she quickly made her way to the headmaster's office.

But she was in for a big surprise when she got down to the common room. Standing at the foot of the girls' staircase were Harry and Neville. Harry looked really annoyed, arms crossed in front of him. Neville looked equally annoyed, but he couldn't decide whether to cross his arms or have his hands on his hips, so he was just fidgeting and trying to do both.

Marigold froze two steps from the bottom. This was a long time coming, but now that it was here she felt awkward.

"Marigold, we've given you enough time to come talk to us on your own. But enough is enough, you have to talk to us," Harry said, unusually focused.  
"What is going on with you?" Neville asked. He was trying to sound as stern as Harry but his voice gave him away.

The common room wasn't full by any means, but the students who where in there were pretending not to look. Marigold felt a hot flush on her face, and she was glad her hair was down to make her rosy cheeks less noticeable. She tried to sputter out an answer, but no words came out.

"Don't think we haven't noticed what's been going on," Harry said, completely oblivious to the rest of the room and the scene they were making. "You look like crap."

"When was the last time you got a full night sleep?" Neville added, a little quieter than Harry, but still loud enough for the room to hear.  
Marigold saw Ginny and Colin climb in through the portrait and freeze. Marigold felt sick. She just wanted to disappear, but Neville and Harry deserved to know what was going on. Not like this though…

"And if you think—"

Marigold didn't let Harry finish his sentence; she grabbed him and Neville by the arm and ushered them up the stairs to the boys dormitory. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, but she shrugged it off.

When she got up to their dorm, she burst in. Seamus and Dean were having a conversation, but quickly ducked out when they saw Marigold and the tears threatening to spill.

"What's been going on with you, Marigold?" Harry asked.

"I have a baby brother, his name is Florian."

With a shuddering breath, Marigold sat down on Neville's bed and told them everything. She told them about the birthday letter from her dad; how he had gotten back together with her mother once she had left. She told them about how she felt like a jealous, awful person…

She didn't tell them about her conversation with Dumbledore, though; when she got to that part she just skipped to the letter she sent to Charlie. She told them about how she felt like he probably agreed with her, but that he had sent her a letter today and he had just been busy.

As she talked, they didn't say anything. There was a point when Neville gave her a nervous pat on the shoulder, but neither of them said anything. They just let her talk, they let her cry. When she was done talking there was a long pause, the only sound was Neville patting Marigold's shoulder, and her racking breaths.

"You know, when Neville and I talked about why you were acting so weird, and we talked a lot, we came up with a lot of things…" Harry said. "We thought that maybe you were having trouble adjusting to school, but then we remembered you're you and you love school."

Marigold giggled a little bit at that, wiping her eyes with her robe.

"We even came up with the idea that you had a secret boyfriend over the summer who dumped you when we got back to school," Neville added.

"When would I have had time for a secret boyfriend?" Marigold gave in to a fit of giggles that turned the boys' faces red.

"Well, you weren't exactly talking to us, were you?" Neville said in his defense. The mood shifted again, and Marigold stopped giggling. "We came up with a lot of weird ideas…" Neville said sheepishly.

"We even talked to Ginny and Colin," Harry said. "Not that they had anything particularly useful to say. Just that they had noticed it too."

There was another uncomfortably long pause. Marigold didn't know what to say.

"Thing is, neither of us even considered this as a possibility," Harry said.

"How could you?" Marigold sighed, her eyes felt heavy and puffy again. "I mean, I didn't even think that it could be possible for my parents to get back together."

The air shifted again and Marigold froze. She looked up from her hands. Neville and Harry were looking everywhere and nowhere.

The sudden realization made Marigold feel sick.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I should have thought…"

"Hey, don't worry about it."  
Marigold was unsure what to say, so she kept her mouth shut. Neville looked just as uncomfortable. Harry looked out the window. Marigold looked down in her lap and noticed the letter to Charlie and suddenly remembered Dumbledore's urgent note.

"I should probably go send this off," she said. Neville just nodded. "I'll be back in a bit."

Marigold got up and made her way down the boys' staircase to the common room. Everyone who had been so raptly paying attention earlier when Harry and Neville had confronted her, were now paying her no mind. As she walked through, toward the portrait hole, she heard what everyone was talking about.

Marigold wasn't surprised, after all the writing had only appeared last night. Everyone was murmuring about the Chamber of Secrets and what the writing could possibly mean.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were sitting in the corner of the room. When Marigold passed by, she caught a part of the conversation. Ron was telling Ginny about how horrible Mrs. Norris was, and that she really shouldn't worry because the cat was terrible.  
Ginny looked worse than she had the last few weeks, more tired, more pale. Her eyes were sunken in and her red hair seemed to bleach her skin. With a clear head, for the first time in ages, Marigold noticed that Ginny was losing weight. For a moment she reminded Marigold of herself; except Ginny had bright brown eyes instead of Marigold's green.

Marigold wanted to stop and see if Ginny was ok, but the knowledge of Dumbledore waiting in his office kept her going. So, instead, Marigold ducked out of the portrait hole and into the busy castle corridors.

Letter clutched in her hand, Marigold walked through the whispering, staring students. Marigold wondered how long the Chamber of Secrets would be the focus of student's attention. The troll last year hadn't lasted very long, but then again, nobody seemed to know anything about the Chamber of Secrets. If anyone did know, they were keeping it to themselves.

All the way to Dumbledore's office, Marigold heard the same questions from different mouths in different ways: What was the Chamber of Secrets? What does it mean, _open_? Who's the heir? Who are the enemies? We have enemies in this school? Who needs to be worried?

Marigold was hoping that Dumbledore was summoning her to give her answers, but she knew he probably wasn't. When did the headmaster ever give her any information? And why would he? Marigold was just a student. Sure, Dumbledore gave her books and the two of them wrote letters, but that wouldn't exactly give Dumbledore reason to talk with her about situations like this.

Marigold wasn't going to lie, though. She was worried. But Hogwarts was a school, she could find out what the Chamber of Secrets was. Hopefully, she could also find out why Harry was hearing voices that neither she nor Neville could hear.

Marigold paused in front of the grotesque gargoyle she had paused at countless times before. The corridor to either side was empty, the first empty corridor she had reached. There was a different, unfamiliar energy today though.

"Licorice wands."  
The gargoyle didn't answer, but opened to a rotating staircase. Feeling uneasy, Marigold walked up the steps and knocked on Dumbledore's door. Nobody answered, but the door swung open. With a shaky breath, hand clutching her letter a little too tight, Marigold walked in.

Dumbledore was pacing the room. The pictures of the past headmasters on the walls followed him with their eyes. Some of the pictures were empty, others were whispering amongst themselves. Dumbledore didn't look at her, but kept pacing, a look of deep contemplation on his face.

Marigold walked into the room, but didn't say anything or sit down. If Dumbledore noticed her presence he didn't let on. Marigold watched as he paced back and forth, and thought that she should have tried to come sooner.

"As you well know," Dumbledore said, continuing to pace. "Our caretaker, Argus Filch, is demanding punishment for what happened to Mrs. Norris."

Marigold didn't say anything.  
"Now, I don't plan on punishing you, because I don't think you did anything wrong. However, I do have to talk to you, otherwise I'll never hear the end of it." Dumbledore stopped pacing abruptly and turned to her. "Additionally, I have a few things to ask of you."

Dumbledore walked over to his desk and sat down. He looked exhausted and every bit his age. Marigold supposed he had been pacing like that all night. She also suspected that the little examination in Lockhart's office hadn't been the end of the night for him like it had been for her and the boys.

"I talked to some of the ghosts at the Sir Nicholas' party last night. It seems the three of you were there like you said. Not that I suspected the three of you of lying."

Marigold walked over and sat across from Dumbledore, still not saying a word.

"But I must ask, why not go to the Halloween feast after the party?" Dumbledore was looking straight at her.  
Marigold had stayed up late in her four-poster bed figuring out how to lie about why they had been there. She knew she would be asked at some point and knew she had to have a story.

"I didn't feel well," she said looking at Dumbledore. "I told the boys to go on without me, but they had followed me trying to convince me to go."

"You don't exactly look well," Dumbledore agreed, examining her. "And I've heard from some teachers that you aren't looking well in class. I've even heard reports that you haven't been eating."  
Marigold irritably wondered who could have pointed that out to Dumbledore.  
"Yes, I've been going through a little bit of a hard time," Marigold confessed, wanting to shift the conversation. "I wrote to Charlie and he took a long time to respond to me, so I've been stressed about that. It's ok now, I got a letter this morning and everything was cleared up.

"But last night I just wanted to crawl into bed and be alone. Neville and Harry were trying to convince me to go to the feast when we found Mrs. Norris and the writing." Marigold stopped talking.

Dumbledore looked like he believed her, but then again who knew what went through the headmaster's head.

"Why was your wand out?" Dumbledore asked.

"I saw what I thought was a dead cat and creepy writing on the wall," Marigold answered.

"That is a rather reasonable response," Dumbledore chuckled softly; his laugh was tired. "How is it, my dear, that you have such a collected head on your shoulders?" Dumbledore mused.

Marigold didn't have an answer. If the last few weeks told her anything, it would be quite the opposite.

"I want you to trust me for a moment here, Marigold. Can you do that for me?" Dumbledore was suddenly very serious.  
Marigold nodded. He was Dumbledore; of course she could trust him.

"I want you to be careful. Keep your friends close. I can't say what this warning will bring. But I can tell you it's a warning I want you to heed. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

Marigold left Dumbledore's office feeling more uneasy than she had going in. If Dumbledore was warning her to be careful, the Chamber of Secrets was indeed something to beware.

She sent off her letter to Charlie lost in thought.

She didn't say anything to Harry or Neville when she got back to the common room, or at all over the next few days. She didn't pass on the warning from Dumbledore, it felt like a warning only for her, a warning to protect others rather than trouble them.

The next few days passed by in a different kind of blur than the last month or so. The castle spoke of little more than the Chamber of Secrets. Harry told Marigold that he had seen Filch trying to remove the message on the wall, but that no matter how hard Filch scrubbed, the words stayed put.

Marigold noticed how the students were reacting to Harry, and to a lesser extent herself. Harry had been held back one afternoon in potions while Snape made him scrape tubeworms off the desk. When Harry joined Marigold and Neville in the library, he told them that Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from him.

Marigold noted that Justin wasn't the only one; she had seen a few other students giving the three of them a wide berth.

It wasn't until several days later when Marigold, Harry, and Neville got a lead on what the Chamber of Secrets was.

History of magic was easily the dullest of the subjects. Marigold always did her best to take notes, knowing that Neville and Harry always passed out six minutes into the lecture. Marigold was following along to the lecture on the International Warlock Convention of 1289 when a hand a few seats ahead of her crept into the air.

Marigold snapped to full attention. Hermione was sitting with her hand in the air, something that happened in other classes but never this one.

Professor Binns looked just as amazed as Marigold felt.

"Miss—er—"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione said in a clear voice.

The effect was immediate. Marigold watched as the room filled with energy. Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms. Neville, who was sat next to Marigold, nearly smacked his face as his elbow slipped off his desk.

Professor Binns just blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry, wheezy voice. "I deal with facts, Miss Granger, not myths and legends." He cleared his throat with a small noise like chalk snapping and continued, "In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers—"  
Marigold caught her breath and Professor Binns stuttered to a halt. Hermione's hand was waving in the air again.

"Miss Grant?"

"Please, sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

"Well," Professor Binns said slowly, "yes, one could argue that, I suppose." He peered at Hermione as though had never seen a student properly before. "However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational_ , even _ludicrous_ tale—"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns' every word.

"Oh, very well," he said slowly. "Let me see…. the Chamber of Secrets…

"You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago, the precise date is uncertain, by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showing signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wanted to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused, pursing his lips, looking like a wrinkled old tortoise.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing.

"Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

Marigold felt a chill down her spine. No wonder Dumbledore had warned her. If the Chamber of Secrets was indeed opened, Muggleborns were going to be in trouble. There was unease in the classroom as the other students put things together between the story and the warning on the wall.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," Binns said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hermione's hand was back in the air.  
"Sir, what exactly do you mean by the 'horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," Professor Bins said in his dry, reedy voice.

Marigold and Neville exchanged nervous looks.

"I tell you, the thing does not exist," Professor Binns said, shuffling his notes. "There is no Chamber and no monster."

"But, sir," Seamus Finnigan piped up, "if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin's true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?"

"Nonsense, O'Flaherty," Professor Binns said in an aggravated tone. "If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven't found the thing—"

"But, Professor," Parvati Patil piped up, "you'd probably have to use Dark Magic to open it—"

"Just because a dark wizard _doesn't_ use Dark Magic doesn't mean he _can't_ , Miss Pennyfeather," snapped Professor Binns. "I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore—"

"But maybe you've got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn't—" began Dean Thomas, but Professor Binns had had enough.

"That will do," he said sharply. "It's a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history; to solid, believable, verifiable _fact_!"

And Professor Binns did indeed return to history, but everyone in the class did not. The room was abuzz with theories and ideas. And in the time it took the students to get to their next class, the whole school knew of the Chamber of Secrets and the story Professor Binns had told.

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please like and favorite if you enjoyed the story. And if you can spare a moment, please leave a review! I love hearing from all of you!)


	10. Quidditch Catastrophe

(A/N: Welcome back everyone, I still exist and haven't given up on Marigold. Sorry for the long wait between posts! I love you all! A special thank you to the amazing geneviveyoung for editing this so well on such a busy schedule. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling)

"I can't do this anymore, I'm going back to the common room."

"But Ginny, you haven't studied with us in ages," Colin protested, setting his quill down.

"There's too much commotion to study in here."

It was Saturday morning, the day after Professor Binns had told Marigold's History of Magic class about the Chamber of Secrets. She and the boys hadn't had the time to talk before bed, and this morning she was sitting in the library with Colin and Ginny studying. Well, trying to study. Ginny, who was still very pale and thin, was packing up her schoolbooks in a huff.

Ginny didn't say another word before stomping out of the library. Colin and Marigold exchanged sad glances, but went back to studying. Marigold wondered what was up with Ginny, she really wasn't herself. She wondered if Ginny was homesick, or if there was something else. Maybe it was just the stress of school, or perhaps she was homesick… Marigold hoped it was something as simple as that.

Ginny did have a point, though. Somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, the whole castle had learned what Professor Binns had told them. Because of this, the library was packed with students trying to find anything else they possibly could get their hands on. Those who weren't grabbing at books were whispering amongst themselves about the news. Madam Pince, the librarian, who looked like an underfed vulture, was doing her best to keep the library quiet, kicking students out left and right, but it didn't seem to make a dent in the noise.

Marigold and Colin were probably the only ones in the library, nay the school, who were not talking about it. But a few moments after the two of them returned to studying, Colin started tapping his foot. It wasn't much at first, but every once in a while he would pause and look up, only to shake his head and go back to schoolwork.

Marigold was just finishing up reviewing Colin's Charms homework - with her revisions he was bound to get a good grade - when she heard Colin put down his quill and not pick it up again.

With a sigh, Marigold put down her own quill and looked up into his big, brown, expectant eyes. They looked like they always did when he was about to ask a million questions.

"Go ahead," Marigold sighed, resigned to the fact that if she didn't reply to Colin now, they'd never be able to get anything done.

"Is Harry really the heir of Slytherin?"

"Is that what people are saying?" Marigold asked, bemused.

"That's not an answer."

"Oh, I don't know, Colin. I mean Salazar Slytherin lived thousands of years ago, who could even say who his descendants are." Marigold paused; Colin was absentmindedly fidgeting with his camera. He didn't take his eyes off her as she spoke. "I _do_ know that Harry didn't do this, he was raised by Muggles. And while he might have a problem with _those particular_ Muggles, he doesn't have a problem with other Muggles or Muggleborns."

"I figured as much. Harry seems really great." Colin looked down at his camera and wiped the lens with his robe sleeve. He didn't look up when he spoke again. "I don't really talk to him, but when I do he's nice to me. I know he's your best friend, and I don't think you would be friends with anyone bad."

Marigold didn't know what to say.

"I know you are attached to your camera, and I'm not saying don't keep it around your neck..." Marigold paused, trying to think of the best way to continue. "But, the thing is, Harry doesn't really like the attention he gets for being the Boy-Who-Lived. I think I understand what you are saying, though, Colin. If you want to talk to Harry more, just take it easy with pictures. It's not that he doesn't like your company, it's the attention that comes with getting his picture taken, or really attention drawn to him, that makes him uncomfortable."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense…"

"And Colin?"

"Yes?" Colin looked up from his camera.

"If you ever feel uneasy about the Chamber of Secrets," Marigold coughed, suddenly uncomfortable, "or if anything else bothers you, I'm not just an older student here to help you get good grades, I consider you my friend."

"Really?"

"Really."

Marigold, Harry, and Neville didn't get the chance to talk to each other until late that night. Harry had Quidditch all day in preparation for the upcoming match, and Neville and Marigold didn't talk about the Chamber of Secrets until Harry got back. Neville started, but Harry shook his head, so the three of them waited for the common room to clear out, and when it finally did, they talked in hushed whispers.

"What do you think it means?" Neville asked.

"I think it means exactly what it says it means," Marigold whispered. "I think there is a Chamber of Secrets, I think it has been opened, and I think that all Muggleborns should watch out."

"I think Marigold is right," Harry agreed.

"There's something else too," Marigold paused, unsure how to proceed. "I talked to Colin during break when I was helping him with homework. It seems, Harry, that a lot of students think you are the Heir of Slytherin."

"Well that's just great," Harry said sarcastically.

"Oh, come off it, Harry," Neville said. "We know it's not you."

"But who _could_ it be?" Marigold pondered. "Who would want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggleborns out of Hogwarts?"

Neville and Harry gave her a knowing look.

"Please, Malfoy is all talk, he couldn't possibly be the heir."

"You heard him," Neville said, angrily. " _You'll be next, Mudbloods!_ Nobody innocent says something gross like that."

"Neville has a point, Marigold," Harry said. "Besides, look at his family. All of them have been in Slytherin. They could easily be the heirs, just passing the key from father to son over the generations.

Marigold wasn't convinced. "A lot of families have a history of being in the same house. I mean, look at us— I mean— the Weasley's, we -they- have been in Gryffindor for ages. Besides, the person behind this isn't likely to draw attention to themselves. Making a threat this big is attention enough."

"I mean that's a fair point, but Malfoy—"

"What if we could prove it was Malfoy?" Neville asked. He had an unusual air of confidence that caused Marigold to pause.

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, oblivious to the look.

"I think I might have an idea."

"Spill it then," Harry said, eagerly.

"Snape was mentioning something in class a few weeks ago about Polyjuice Potion. I thought it would be cool to be someone else for awhile so I made mental note of it."

"It's advanced though…" Marigold said, remembering the potion herself.

"I'm confused, what is Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't like him either but you could still pay attention in class." Marigold sighed. "Polyjuice Potion turns the drinker into somebody else for a short amount of time."

"That way we could pretend to be someone from Slytherin and talk to Malfoy," Neville added. "Or honestly just sit in their common room because he's probably bragging about it to anyone who will listen."

"This whole idea is crazy," Marigold said. "I doubt Malfoy is the heir—"

"It's the only lead we've got."

Marigold wondered for a moment if they should even be looking for leads.

 _'_ _Be careful — keep your friends close — it's a warning I want you to heed.'_

But it was Harry; of course he was going to go looking for leads. And Marigold would follow him, if only to make sure he didn't get himself in trouble.

"Well, how do we make it then?" Harry asked.  
"Well, Snape said the potion was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_." Marigold sighed. "A book like that is bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library, and without a signed note from a teacher, I don't know how we could get our hands on it."

"Maybe if we say we just want to look at it for theory? Not to actually make the potions?" Neville asked.

"Who's going to be dumb enough to believe that?" Harry asked.

The three of them exchanged glances. They knew just the teacher.

Since the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, when Professor Lockhart let loose a bunch of pixies to ransack his office, he had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he had been reading passages from his books and sometimes reenacted them. Harry was unfortunately Lockhart's muse for these reenactments, so Marigold and the others had to watch as poor Harry had to play along.

Harry was hauled in front of the class during their very next lesson, this time he was a werewolf. Marigold and Neville had begged Harry to keep Lockhart happy until the three of them could talk to him. But Marigold still found it excruciating to watch her best friend embarrassed at the front of the room.

"Nice loud howl, Harry — exactly — and then — if you'll believe it, I pounced — like this — slammed him to the floor — thus — with one hand, I managed to hold him down — with my other, I put my wand to his throat — I then gathered up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm — he let out a piteous moan — go on, Harry — higher than that — good — the fur vanished — the fangs shrank — and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective — and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks."

The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet.

"Homework — compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"

Harry made his way back to Marigold and Neville, a pained look on his face.

"With each class it gets more and more agonizing to watch you act that stuff out." Neville whispered.

"Let's just get this done with," Harry growled.  
Once everyone was out of the room, Marigold made her way up to Professor Lockhart who was messing with something in his desk. When he turned around to face them, an embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks. She immediately tried to push away her thoughts on how pretty he was, and remember he was an idiot and a terrible teacher, like she had known all year! But with an annoying flick of his hair she realized it smelled like strawberries.

"Um, Professor, sir. There was a book I wanted to get out of the library. I was reading over _Gadding with Ghouls_ and there was something in it that I didn't understand. I think this book could help, but it's in the restricted section, so, I was hoping you could sign—" Marigold held out a piece of paper with the name of the book she needed.

"Ah, yes," Professor said, gently grabbing the piece of paper from her. " _Gadding with Ghouls_ , possibly my favorite book. Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, yes! It's in my top two; I also really enjoyed _Voyages with Vampires_!"

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving one of the best students of the year with a little extra help," Lockhart said warmly, as he pulled out an enormous peacock quill.

One of the best? He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to her. One of the _best_? He really thought _she, Marigold Rosenberg,_ was one of the best students of the year? Of course Hermione was good in classes, but Lockhart thought _she_ was up there too?

"So, Harry," Lockhart said, while Marigold slipped the note into her bag. "This weekend is the first Quidditch match of the season, am I correct? Gryffindor against Slytherin, right? I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try out for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if you ever feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players…"

And with that, the blush on Marigold's cheeks disappeared, her disdain returning as Harry made an indistinct noise.

"Thank you professor, I think we should get right on this!" Marigold said, her cheerfulness now fake. Not that Lockhart seemed to notice.

Marigold grabbed Harry and Neville by the sleeves of their robes, and they left the room in a hurry.

"I can't believe it," Neville said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even _look_ at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's an idiot," Marigold said. "Not that it really matters, we got what we need, let's go."

Marigold turned to leave.

"A handsome idiot, apparently." Marigold heard Harry whisper with a giggle.

Marigold's face burned, but she didn't say anything as they entered the library. Marigold handed the note to Madam Pince, who looked at it questioningly.

" _Moste Potente Potions_?" she repeated suspiciously, taking the note from Marigold.

Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Marigold carefully put it in her bag, next to her flashing planner, and the three of them casually left the library. Well, as casually as they could after Neville nearly tripped over a chair leg, but that wasn't too alarming to Madam Pince as she was accustomed to Neville's clumsiness.

Once out of the library the three of them quickly raced back to Gryffindor tower, up the stairs, and into the empty boys dormitory. Marigold, out of breath, sat down on Neville's bed and rummaged through her bag for the book. Harry and Neville sat down on either side of her and caught their breath.

Marigold pulled out the moldy-looking book and carefully opened it. Marigold heard Neville gulp, Harry didn't say anything; Marigold didn't know what to say either. It was clear from the first damp, spotted page why it belonged in the restricted section. The three of them held their breath as Marigold gingerly flipped through the pages.

Some of the potions had effects Marigold never could have imagined, and certainly would look at in the future, purely out of curiosity of course. In addition to the gruesome outcomes, there were some very unpleasant illustrations. There was a man who seemed to have been turned inside out, and a witch with several pairs of arms sprouting out of her head. Whether these were the preferred outcomes, or just terrible side effects should the potion be made incorrectly, Marigold couldn't tell at a glance.

As Marigold thumbed through the pages, she could hear Harry and Neville reacting to the book, Neville was fidgeting and Harry seemed uncomfortable. But they didn't say anything to stop her from looking, so she continued on.

"This is it," Marigold said, finally finding the right page.

The Polyjuice Potion was at the head of the page, while the rest was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Their looks of agony weren't lost on Marigold. Not only were they going to be breaking about a thousand school rules, but there were also real bodily risks going into this.

Marigold read over the ingredient list and instructions.

"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," Marigold said, finally. "I mean, lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass are in the student store-cupboard. But a lot of these will be difficult to obtain. Powdered horn of a bicorn and the shredded skin of a boomslang are probably in Professor Snape's personal storage… but look at this…" Marigold pointed to the last ingredient.

"A bit of whoever we want to change into?" Harry asked, astonished.

"Well how else would we turn into someone else?" Marigold answered.

Neville gulped, Harry didn't look so convinced anymore.

"Look guys," Marigold said, shutting the book. "We need to really be sure we want to do this. Stealing, drinking bits of another person, possible disfiguration… Are you sure—"

"It's the only way to see if Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin," Harry interrupted.

Marigold only nodded. She could tell there was no changing his mind. She felt slightly frustrated that Harry was being so stubborn. She was almost certain that it was someone else. Malfoy was all blather and no action. She looked to Neville.

"Nev?"

There was a long pause before Neville spoke. "I'm in." It had been his idea, after all.

"Ok, well now that we have that settled, there are a few things we need to figure out first."

"Like what?" Harry asked, moving to his own bed.

"Well, I have an idea on how to get the ingredients we need, but we're going to need to find a place where we can brew this potion without being found. We can't exactly brew it here in Gryffindor tower."

"Well, why not? The boy's dormitory is pretty empty on the weekends," Harry said.

"For one, the potion takes about a month to—"

"A Month?" Neville squeaked.

"Neville's right, Marigold. Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggleborns in the school by then!" Harry said urgently. Marigold shot him an exasperated glance. "But it's the only plan we've got, so let's keep our eyes open for something."

Marigold fought the urge to roll her eyes. She also fought the feeling that they might be wasting a month's worth of time. Harry had a point, in a roundabout way; whoever _was_ doing this could attack half the Muggleborns in the time it took them to brew the potion. And if it turned out to be someone other than Malfoy, like she was almost sure it was, then they could potentially be wasting this month. But at the same time, this was the only lead they had.

"What's the other thing we need to figure out?" Neville asked.

"Well, I guess it's two parts to the same question. One, who are we going to turn into, and how are we going to keep them out of the way while we talk to Malfoy?"

Marigold woke up early Saturday morning, only to realize that it was the day of the Quidditch match, and Harry must have been up for hours already. She waited for Neville to get up, thinking about their plans and what to do about things.

Neville came downstairs at about nine, and the two of them made their way to breakfast. They spotted Harry with the rest of the Gryffindor team. One look at their solemn faces and Marigold suddenly remembered what they were up against. In the commotion of the last few weeks, she had completely forgotten about the fight on the grounds and the fact that the Slytherin team had the fastest brooms on the market.

Marigold and Neville walked over and wished Harry luck, before making their way to the Quidditch stadium with the rest of the school. Marigold sat next to Colin, who had his camera around his neck and was already snapping at everything that moved, which unfortunately for Marigold, included several candid pictures of her.

It was a little while before the Slytherin team walked out onto the pitch, green robes billowing behind them, sleek brooms glistening bright enough to see from the stands. In the stands across from where they were seated, the Slytherins erupted into cheers and whistles.

Moments later, the Gryffindor team walked onto the pitch, their scarlet robes and older brooms a stark contrast. Marigold found Harry right away; he was the only one with a decent broom, and the smallest of the lot to boot.

Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, observed as Captains Flint and Wood shook hands.

"On my whistle," Madam Hooch's voice boomed around the stadium. "Three… two… one…"

Her breath caught in her throat as cheers erupted around her, and all fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry rocketed above all of them and paused. Marigold knew he was searching desperately for the Snitch. Marigold figured that Wood probably wanted Harry to get the Snitch before Malfoy could and before any Slytherins could score.

Marigold liked watching Harry during games; she found it fun to see if she could see the Snitch before him. She never could. Even when Harry located the Snitch and went after it, Marigold could never see what he was chasing after, just that he was going after something.

So Marigold was probably one of the only ones watching Harry, seeing as the rest of the match was probably more entertaining. She watched as Malfoy zoomed around, probably taunting Harry, and gasped as a Bludger pelted toward Harry who narrowly missed it.

George came to the rescue, pelting the Bludger with a good whack toward a nearby Slytherin player. Marigold's relief turned in to confusion as the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped in altitude to avoid it; a move that made Marigold's stomach churn, and George managed to hit it toward Malfoy. But, once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Marigold absentmindedly grabbed Neville's sleeve. She didn't know if he had noticed or if he was even looking towards Harry. Usually watching the Seekers was really boring since they were mostly just looking for the Snitch, but, for once, the Seeker was way more interesting than anything else going on in the game.

Harry shot off toward the other end of the field. Marigold watched, confused and horrified, as the Bludger whistled along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers didn't focus on a single player like this; they were tricksters, their job was to unseat as many players as possible.

Harry dived at the last minute to avoid hitting Fred, who was waiting for the Bludger and swung with all his might, propelling the Bludger in the opposite direction.

Was nobody else seeing this? What was even happening in the rest of the game that nobody would notice this commotion? Marigold took a chance and tore her eyes off Harry and turned to Neville, who was wide eyed and watching Harry as well.

Neville looked away from the sky, his pudgy face white. It started to rain. Big drops pelted down, Marigold could only imagine how hard rain could be while on a broom. Marigold dropped her hand, which was still on his sleeve. The two of them didn't say anything, but Lee Jordan's commentary reached their ears drawing them out of a trance.

"Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

Marigold looked back at the sky. The Slytherin team was a blur through the raindrops, their new brooms clearly doing their jobs. The mad Bludger was still trying to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were on either side of him doing their best to keep him in the air.

George was barely able to keep the darned thing from breaking Harry's nose; but moments later, Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and everyone dove to the ground. Everyone huddled up, and Marigold couldn't make out what was being said, but she hoped someone would do something about the obviously tampered with Bludger.

Madam Hooch approached the huddle, and moments later it disbanded. On her whistle, Harry shot up, unaccompanied by Fred and George, the Bludger was on his tail the moment he lifted off the ground. At this point everyone in the crowd had noticed what was going on, a time out generally does that, and a lot of student's laughed as Harry looped, swooped, zigzagged, and rolled.

Harry was doing his best to keep away, but there were too many close calls to count. Each near miss sent Marigold's stomach to new places in her body no stomach belonged.

Malfoy flew close to Harry, but not close enough to be in the way of the Bludger. He must have said something to Harry, because Harry paused in mid air. He was there for too long; and with a hit that Marigold could feel from the stands, the Bludger made contact with Harry. Harry slid sideways on his broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling at his side. But the Bludger didn't stop; it came pelting back, straight at Harry's face.

Harry dove toward Malfoy, took the remaining hand off his broom, and made a desperate grab and what Marigold (first time ever) recognized as the Snitch. His hand closed, and then he hit the ground hard.

Marigold was out of her seat before Lee Jordan could announce the game was over. In a blur of rain and anxiety, she somehow managed to get onto the pitch before even Madam Hooch.

Harry was on his side and Marigold quickly rolled him over. His arm was at an awkward angle and very much broken. The Bludger made contact with the ground right where Harry had been before she had rolled him over. She looked into the sky trying to find it, but Fred and George had touched down to the ground and desperately started wrangling with it. The rest of the Gryffindor team huddled up around them, and, Much to Marigold's dismay, Professor Lockhart was striding over the pitch looking important with his hair barely touched by the rain. Neville was there next, and then Colin who was asking if Harry was ok, to which Marigold didn't answer.

"I'll take it from here, Miss Rosenberg," Lockhart said, pushing her out of the way slightly as he sat down.

It was that moment that Harry woke up.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned.

Marigold stifled a giggle.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," Lockhart said loudly to the group. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"Absolutely no—" Marigold said.

" _No!_ " Harry said. "I'll keep it like it is, thanks…"

Harry tried to sit up, but made a face. Marigold put a hand on his good shoulder and kept him from moving anymore.

"Lie back, Harry," Professor Lockhart said, putting his own hand on Harry's shoulder. Marigold shot him a dirty look. "It's a simple charm I've used it countless times—"

"Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" Harry said through clenched teeth.

"He really should, Professor," a muddy looking Oliver Wood said, beating Marigold to the punch. Even though his Seeker was injured, he couldn't help containing his excitement. "Great capture, Harry! Really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say!"

"Stand back," Lockhart said, while rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No—don't—" Harry said weakly.

Marigold also protested, but Lockhart was already twirling his wand and a second later had directed it at Harry's arm. Marigold watched in horror as Harry's arm slowly deflated. Gasps erupted through the crowd. Harry looked away from his arm and toward Marigold. They shared a look; Marigold just shook her head and watched Harry's heart deflate along with his arm.

"Ah," Lockhart said. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the Hospital wing, and ah, Madam Pomfrey will be able to—er—tidy you up a bit."

Marigold helped Harry to his feet. He looked a little lopsided. Marigold kept him from looking at his arm as she helped him through the pathway Neville and Colin were making through the crowd.

The three of them got to the castle and shook off the rain the best they could. Harry was able to walk, so Marigold let go of his good arm, only to grab him again as he nearly went limp from looking at his flesh-covered, rubber-glove-looking hand.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't pleased at all.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what not long ago had been Harry's working arm. Neville made a quiet gagging noise. "I can mend bones in a heartbeat, but growing them back—"

"You will be able to, won't you?" Harry said desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," Madam Pomfrey said grimly, throwing Harry a pair of Pajamas. "You'll have to spend the night…"

Harry and Neville disappeared behind the curtain. Marigold and Colin stayed outside as Neville helped Harry into the pajamas.

"You can go ahead and head back to the tower, if you want. I'm sure there's a big celebration waiting," Marigold told Colin after hearing his stomach make a very large growl. "We'll meet up with you in a bit."

"Ok, see-yeh, Harry!" Colin said, leaving the Hospital wing, his camera bouncing with each step.

"Thanks, Colin," Harry mumbled from behind the curtain. "Decent."

Marigold and Madam Pomfrey turned round the curtain just in time to see Harry swing himself onto the bed, arm flapping pointlessly. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled _Skele-Gro_.

"You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring a steaming beakerful and handing it to Harry. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

Harry choked down the beaker, coughing and gagging as he went. When he had finished, Madam Pomfrey retreated, muttering under her breath about dangerous sports and inept teachers.

"If it makes you feel any better, Harry," Neville said, helping him gulp down some water. "We won the game."

"That was some catch you made, Harry," Marigold added. "It happened so fast, but Malfoy looked downright murderous when he realized that you had caught it."

"I want to know how he fixed the Bludger…" Neville said, quietly, looking uncharacteristically dark.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," Harry said, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff…"

"With a bit of Slytherin essence? Not a chance," Marigold said flatly.

The three of them were quiet for a moment, Marigold sat down at the foot of Harry's bed. Not a moment later, Madam Pomfrey came bustling round the curtain.

"Ok, time to go," Madam Pomfrey said. "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty three bones to regrow."

Marigold and Neville said goodnight, and headed to Gryffindor Tower.

"Lockhart's an idiot," Marigold muttered.

"Poor Harry," Neville agreed.

When they ducked through the portrait hole, there was indeed a party awaiting them. The commotion screeched to a stop when they walked in. All heads turned toward them, awaiting answers no doubt.

"Harry will be fine," Marigold said loudly. Looks of angst changed to looks of relief. "He just has to stay overnight while Madam Pomfrey regrows his bones."

Laughter erupted, and the party continued.

Colin was excitedly taking pictures of everyone. A little ways into the night, Colin made his way over to her and sat down next to her.

"It's a shame Harry's missing this!"

"Oh, he'll be alright," Marigold, said tiredly. "He's a good Seeker, he's won games for us before, and he'll do so again. And next time he'll make it to the party."

"Think I should go and visit him?"

"I think he'd really appreciate that, Colin." Marigold stifled a yawn. "Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Night, Marigold."

As Marigold crawled into bed, she thought that maybe she would accompany Colin tomorrow. Who knew how late into the morning Harry would be there, and who knew how painful a process regrowing bones would be. He could use the company.

(A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please like and favorite if you enjoyed the story. And if you can spare a moment, please leave a review! I love hearing from all of you!)


	11. Desperation

(A/N: I hope you enjoy this latest chapter of Marigold. As always, everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. **Chapter has been updated/changed to reflect book one content. Specifically in regards to Fae Dunbar.** )

Marigold woke up earlier than ever the next morning. She peeked out of her curtains and the sun wasn't even up yet. She rolled over and stared at the top of her four-poster bed, feeling a little uneasy. She pondered the day before, the Quidditch match, and Harry. Could Neville and Harry be right? Could these attacks be Malfoy? With a soft moan she got out of bed; staying here staring at nothing wasn't going to make her feel any better.

Like every morning before, she got dressed and made her way downstairs. It was a long, long time before Neville strolled down the stairs and the two of them went to breakfast. In that time, Marigold's anxiety had already been chewing her up inside. Something wasn't right, and she needed to know what was happening, or she was going to go crazy.

Talking with Neville on the way down to breakfast, Marigold was able to put together that he didn't feel the anxiety she was feeling. The two of them sat down and started to fill their plates. Something told Marigold to look at the head table, and when she did she realized that she wasn't the only one out of sorts.

Professor McGonagall was fervently whispering to Professor Flitwick. Marigold was too far away to hear what was being said. Though, with the excited conversations about the Quidditch win, Marigold was sure she wouldn't have been able to hear them if she was sitting right next to them. But judging the expressions that passed over Professor Flitwick's face told Marigold it wasn't anything good.

A flapping in the air told Marigold that mail had arrived. In the last letter Charlie had sent he had told her he was having a fun time answering Colin's dragon questions, so Marigold anticipated a long letter full of fun answers. So when two letters plopped down right in front of her, she was surprised.

One was from Charlie of course, but Dumbledore had sent her another letter. What could the Headmaster possibly want now? He had just talked to her a week or so ago. Anticipating that it was nothing good, Marigold opened the letter from Dumbledore first.

 _Lemon Drops_

Her stomach dropped to a place no stomach belongs. Marigold stood up from the table. Neville asked where she was going through bites of egg, but Marigold didn't answer. She passed by Harry who was walking into the Great Hall, arm looking fine, but Marigold didn't pause. She barely recognized that Harry looked a little hurt before leaving the room.

Good, so it isn't Harry, she thought. But what could possibly be so urgent to Dumbledore?

At the password, the gargoyle jumped aside. She didn't knock, but barged into Dumbledore's office, breathless and ready for anything.

Dumbledore turned around; he was wearing a pained expression that sent Marigold's thoughts racing.

"Who died?" she asked, her stomach dropping further. She didn't notice, but the letter from Charlie was getting crushed in her fist.

Dumbledore didn't answer her. He just stood there, looking at her with an expression she couldn't read.

"Who, Professor?"

"Nobody has died. Please come sit." Dumbledore gestured to the chair by his desk.

"No." Marigold very nearly stomped her foot, but thought better of it. "I just got a letter from you with nothing but a password. I came all the way over to your office, rushing out on my friend who _just_ got out of the hospital wing. So, with all due respect, Dumbledore, _sir_ , but I want to know _why_."

She was scared, she was furious, she was apprehensive, she was nervous; she was second-guessing her outburst already. But she didn't move.

Dumbledore crossed over to his desk and sat down. He looked at her differently than before; he looked amused, almost proud? He looked older somehow, even though he looked ancient before. What was this? Tired?

"I wouldn't have called on you like this if it wasn't important." His voice was quiet, almost saddened. "There's been another attack. Another student has been petrified."

Marigold just blinked. "Who?"

"Colin Creevey. I believe he is one of your friends…"

The room went still. A ringing sounded off in Marigold's ears. She could see Dumbledore talking, but she couldn't hear him. There was no sound other than the ringing in her ears. _Why? How? Oh god._

"Where did you find him?" Marigold interrupted. The ringing was now static that was blocking out everything but Dumbledore's voice.

"Right outside the Hospital Wing. He had a bowl of grapes with him."

"He asked me at the party—the Gryffindor party for winning the Quidditch match—he asked me if I thought Harry would enjoy it if he paid him a visit. I thought he meant today, not sneaking out at night. I never would have, I didn't realize, oh god it's my fault…"

"Did you open the Chamber of Secrets?" Dumbledore asked, gently.

"No?" Marigold said, confused.

"Then this is not your fault."

"What can we do?" Marigold asked, desperation in her voice.

"I told you the last time you were sitting in that chair. Do you remember?"

"Be careful, keep my friends close. Heed the writing on the wall. But there must be something _more_ I can do. Colin is one of my good friends. What if whoever is doing this doesn't petrify the next person, what if the next person dies? There has to be a way to protect all the other Muggleborns."

"Those are very reasonable worries, Miss Rosenberg. The last time the Chamber was opened, a student did indeed die."

"The last time? It's been opened before?" Marigold was shocked.

"I was merely a teacher at that time, but yes, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before. It was believed that the culprit was caught at that time, though I never believed he was the person responsible. But now that things are coming back to haunt us, I am even more sure that the culprit is still at large. It's even possible that this is someone new."

"Why are you telling me all this, Professor?"

"Last year you, Harry, and Neville took it upon yourselves to go looking into matters above yourselves. And while it ended up saving the Sorcerer's Stone, you also put yourselves in great danger. Knowing your friend, I believe that Harry will probably want to look into things again this year. I want to ask you to do what you can to keep him away from all of this. Someone died the last time this happened; I don't want that to happen again."

Marigold pushed thoughts of their current plans far away, tucked away in the back of her mind and nodded. "I'll do what I can."

Marigold wandered around the castle for a long time, completely and utterly lost in thought. She ultimately found herself in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey didn't seem amused, but allowed Marigold to sit down next to Colin. His camera was gone, but his hands were in front of his face as if he had been taking a picture when it happened.

Marigold wondered if her stomach would ever go back to normal. She looked down at her hands and saw the crumpled letter from Charlie. She opened it, and fighting back tears, saw all the wonderful answers to Colin's dragon questions.

Marigold took a long time reading Charlie's answers to Colin, even though she knew he couldn't hear them. When she was done reading she stayed until she couldn't stand the silence anymore. Wiping her tears, she left the Hospital Wing.

She wandered the castle some more and found herself in the corridor where everything started. The writing was still there, faded and dried, but still there. Choking back more tears, Marigold thought back to that night. She poked around, not really looking for anything in particular.

She found scorch marks on the floor, but stranger, at the topmost pane of the window, she saw a dozen or so small spiders scuttling, trying to get through a small crack. A long silvery thread dangled like a rope, as though they had all climbed it in a hurry to leave the castle.

Marigold froze, transfixed as the spiders kept fighting to escape. She jumped at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor. Worried of being caught by Filch, Marigold rushed over to a door with an out of order sign and quickly hid behind it. The footsteps slowly disappeared. It wasn't Filch then.

Marigold turned around and sunk to the floor, bracing herself against the door. Knees against her chest, she hung her head with a long-winded sigh. It was a long moment until she heard whimpering in the room. She looked up into the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom she had ever seen.

Under a large, cracked, and spotted mirror were a row of chipped sinks. The floor was damp and reflected the dull light given off by the stubs of a few candles, burning low in their holders; the wooden doors of the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Marigold got to her feet and followed the hiccoughing moans to the end stall, the one with the door off its hinges. Behind the door, she found the ghost she had met at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party.

"Hello, Myrtle," Marigold said awkwardly.

Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin. She looked at Marigold apathetically.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was looking at the writing on the wall out there." Marigold gestured toward the bathroom door. "Did you see anything that night? After the party?"

"I wasn't paying attention," Myrtle said. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to _kill_ myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I'm—that I'm—"

"I'm sorry, Myrtle," Marigold said, a little awkwardly.

Myrtle just let out a loud wail in response. Marigold left the bathroom in a hurry.

She found Neville and Harry in the nearly empty common room. They jumped up when she entered the room, worried looks on their faces.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked.

"I was visiting Colin," Marigold said, taking a seat. "How's your arm, Harry? I'm sorry I didn't ask this morning."

"It's fine, bones exist and everything," Harry said sarcastically.

Neither of the boys asked how she knew about Colin, and she didn't ask how they did.

"Tell her, Harry," Neville said, sitting down next to her.

"Tell me what?" Marigold asked.

"Dobby woke me up last night in the Hospital Wing." Harry started pacing. "He was the one who kept me and Ron from going through the barrier and made us miss the train. He was also behind the Bludger. But that's not all, apparently the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before!"

Marigold feigned surprise. She had lied to Dumbledore about doing her best to keep Harry out of this. She knew she would never be able to do that. But she could keep him safe. At the very least, she could keep him safe.

"Dobby seems to think I'm in danger from whatever is in the Chamber of Secrets. If anyone is in danger it's you, Marigold. But Dobby was insistent I go home. Dobby disappeared before I could get any more information, because Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall came in with Colin Creevey. They thought that maybe he had taken a picture of whatever attacked him but his film had _melted_."

"What can melt film?" Neville asked.

"I'm sure there are a lot of spells that can melt film…" Marigold trailed off, thinking. "I went back to the writing on the wall."

"Why?" Harry asked. He had stopped pacing.

"I wanted to see if I could find anything."

"And?" Neville prompted.

"Scorch marks, spiders acting really strange, and an out of order bathroom with a wailing ghost. Nobody goes up there anymore anyway, and with an out of order sign, I think this bathroom would be the perfect place to brew the Polyjuice Potion."

"Marigold, that's perfect!"

"That just leaves getting the ingredients, figuring out who to turn into, keeping them out of the way, and you know, actually brewing the potion for a month."

"You know, now that we know the Chamber of Secrets has been opened before, Malfoy makes sense as the heir," Harry said. "His dad could have opened it while he was in school. I wish Dobby had told me more though, like what we are up against."

By the time Marigold woke up Monday morning, news of Colin Creevey's attack and subsequent petrification had spread through the entire school. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.

Ginny was worse than Marigold, and Fred and George weren't helping. They had tried cheering her up by taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. The only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to mum and tell her Ginny was having nightmares. Marigold was glad something was going to be done in regards to Ginny.

Marigold was a mess for the first week after Colin had been petrified, but she was doing better than when Charlie hadn't written her back, and she felt a little guilty about that.

In between classes and whenever teachers weren't nearby, a roaring trade of talismans, amulets, and other protective devices broke out amongst the students. Marigold nearly smacked Neville upside the head on Wednesday when he bought a large evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail.

"Why did you get all that nonsense, Nev?" Marigold asked in exasperation, covering her mouth and nose with her cloak.

"They went for Filch first," Neville mumbled. "And everyone knows I'm almost a Squib."

"You knock that off, Neville," Harry said. "You are a wonderful wizard and don't listen to anyone who says otherwise.

"But I—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Neville Longbottom," Marigold warned.

"Well, do you want them then?" he asked, sheepishly.

"Nev, I doubt these things have any actual magical properties that could protect me from whatever is loose in the castle." Neville hung his head. Marigold, understanding where he was coming from sighed. "The purple crystal is pretty though," she added.

Face slightly red, he handed it over and she tucked it away in her robes.

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came round one night at dinner collecting the names of students wanting to stay at school for the holidays. Marigold, Harry, and Neville signed the list, having heard that Malfoy was going to be staying, which struck Neville and Harry as suspicious.

Harry was under the impression that the holidays would be the perfect time to use the Polyjuice Potion and try to worm a confession out of him. Harry was right of course, but they had hit a snag. Marigold and the boys had gotten as much of the Polyjuice Potion done as they could with the ingredients they had on hand, but unfortunately the potion was only half done. They still needed the more restricted ingredients, which they knew would be in only one place: Snape's private stores.

Marigold knew that she had only one option for grabbing the necessary ingredients from Snape's storeroom. She would have to go at night, late at night when Snape was asleep, and she would have to use Harry's invisibility cloak. She wasn't particularly fond of the idea, especially after telling Dumbledore she would stay out of it, but she didn't have any other option.

Harry was also pressuring her to get a move on with the potion so they could use it over the holidays. Luckily that meant he didn't argue when she asked for his cloak, though he did take convincing to stay in bed and not go with her.

"Harry, for some reason Snape _likes_ me. If I get caught he's not going to have me expelled. But if you go with me, you absolutely _will_."

"Fine," he said grudgingly, "just don't get caught."

Marigold ultimately decided on Tuesday at three in the morning. She figured Snape woke up early and went to sleep late, so three in the morning would probably be perfect. She also figured early in the week would be better, thinking that later on in the week he might stay up later grading student's homework. But in all reality, who was she to know the habits of Professor Snape.

Marigold had received a gift last Christmas that she wanted to use. She rummaged around her trunk for a few minutes before finding it. The small simple box wasn't damaged at all, which was surprising since it had been crammed in the bottom of her trunk under several books for who knew how long.

She opened the box to find a small card and an old black candle. She opened the note with the all too familiar handwriting.

 _The light shines only for you,_

 _Never faltering, never diming, never running out._

 _May it help in your endeavors,_

 _or guide you in dark times._

 _Happy Christmas to you_

Trading the card for the candle, Marigold had a newfound determination, certain that her adventure tonight would go off without a hitch.

Marigold went to bed at her normal time, Harry's invisibility cloak and the small black candle from Dumbledore stuffed under her pillow. One by one, the other girls fell asleep and Marigold was left alone with her thoughts and Hermione's soft snores. Too anxious to fall asleep herself, Marigold entertained her thoughts, going down whatever rabbit hole they decided to wander down. Not remembering how she got there or where she went next, her thoughts blended together until three in the morning arrived.

Slipping the cloak over her shoulders, Marigold lit the candle with her wand and crawled out of bed. None of the girls stirred as she walked out of the dormitory, the bright candlelight passing by their beds. She made her way out of the common room and into the castle. It was cold, and the normal hum of magic was just a whisper. As Marigold passed by the paintings, none of the occupants stirred or were awakened by the light. Marigold was able to finally come to terms with the fact that it really did only shine for her, and nobody else could see it.

As Marigold got closer and closer to the dungeons, the air got colder and colder. She hadn't been out after curfew since last year when Neville, Harry, and she had gone to the third floor to head off what turned out to be Professor Quirrell. She had always found it eerie to walk around the castle without the hustle and bustle of students.

Harry had told Marigold where to find Snape's office, since he and Ron had been marched there the first day of school after crashing into the Whomping Willow with Mr. Weasley's enchanted car. Marigold was betting on the fact that, since Harry hadn't seen a bed in there, Snape didn't sleep in his office. Since they weren't in the potions storeroom, Marigold was sure that the ingredients she was looking for would be in his personal supply of ingredients.

Marigold reached the door, and tried the handle only for it to be locked. _Alohomora_ , nothing. _Liberare_ , with a click it was open. She opened the door slowly and closed it behind her. With a sigh of relief she saw that the room was empty.

Her candle created shadows on the glass jar covered walls, which made the room feel even more sinister than it was. There was a dark fireplace, which was unfortunate because the room was so cold she could see her breath. Marigold looked around the room; the glass jars had pickled things she didn't recognize and didn't care to get acquainted with.

She went over to the cupboard in the corner of the room and grabbed all the ingredients she needed, stuffing them into her robe pockets. Heart racing, she closed the cupboard and went back to the door. On her way back she noticed an empty desk with a lot of scattered papers. Pausing, she found herself wondering what kind of things Snape kept ahold of.

Pushing back the thought that this was a major breach of personal space, letting curiosity get the better of her, Marigold walked behind the desk and opened the drawers. There was nothing in the first few drawers, and Marigold was sure the last one would have nothing as well.

She was wrong though. Lying face down in the bottom drawer was a picture frame. What could Snape possibly have a picture of, it's not like he had friends? Reaching a hand under the invisibility cloak, Marigold tentatively picked up the frame and turned it over.

Staring back at her was the most beautiful girl Marigold had ever seen. The candid photo only intensified how pretty she was. She must have been in her last year at Hogwarts, because she looked seventeen or eighteen. She was sitting outside, somewhere Marigold didn't recognize, laughing at someone out of the shot. Her hair was dark red and kissing her shoulders, it was like the wind was made to flow threw it. Her bright green eyes were crinkled with her smile. For some reason the photo wasn't moving.

But Marigold didn't have time to worry about why the photo was still and Muggle-like because Marigold knew who the girl was.

She didn't know her, but she _knew_ her.

Marigold had been compared to her several times. Seeing an actual picture of her, Marigold was finally able to see why. Though Marigold wasn't nearly as beautiful, it was easy to see why she had been compared to her, the similarities were uncanny.

This was Harry's mother. This was Lily Potter. Well, since she was so young she probably went by Lily Evans still…

Marigold looked more like Harry's mum than she did her own mother… the honestly could have been sisters.

Marigold carefully put the photo back in the desk and quickly left the office, locking the door behind her. Why would Snape have a photo of Harry's mum?

That question lasted her all the way back to her dormitory and into her bed where she fell asleep wondering.

The next morning, Harry, Neville, and Marigold added the ingredients to the potion. She didn't tell either of them about the photo, but did let them know that the potion would be ready to use in two weeks.

The next few days went by much too quickly; the professors were trying to get as much teaching in as they could before the holidays, so the three of them were insanely busy. Luckily, Snape didn't seem to have noticed that his supply closet had been raided, and his desk messed with.

Thursday morning, Marigold and the boys were exiting the Great Hall from breakfast when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Dean Thomas got her attention and beckoned them over.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" Seamus Finnigan said, beating Dean to the punch. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days…"

"Should we go?" Neville asked.

Harry was super excited, and Marigold was looking forward to applying her dueling knowledge to a practical application. So eight o'clock that night, the three of them hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black, and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" Hermione said excitedly. She and Ron were standing with Marigold, Harry, and Neville. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young..."

"As long as it's not—" but Ron let out a groan.

Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart said, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry, you'll still have you Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear."

"Wouldn't it be great if they finished each other off?" Marigold heard Ron mutter.

Snape's upper lip was curling. Marigold wondered why Lockhart was still smiling; if Snape had been looking at her that way she would be running far away so quickly.

Marigold knew how dueling worked from the books Dumbledore had given her, but to see it happen was amazing. Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, which much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you can see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured.

Marigold agreed; Snape looked super angry.

"Three—two—one—"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers.

"Who cares?" Harry and Ron answered.

Neville and Marigold laughed.

Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform. "That was a Disarming Charm—as you can see, I've lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was all very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…"

Snape was looking downright murderous. Possibly Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me—"

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville and Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Ron with Hermione. But before Lockhart could pair Harry and Marigold together, Snape interjected with a sneer.

"As interesting as this would be," Snape said, looking between the two of them. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Letts see what you make of the famous Potter. And you," Snape turned toward Marigold, "Miss Rosenberg—you can partner with Miss Parkinson."

Malfoy strutted over, smirking at Harry. Pansy Parkinson, the annoying girl who had been fawning over Malfoy all year, trailed behind him, glowering at Marigold.

"Face your partners!" Lockhart called, back on the platform. "And bow."

Marigold bowed to Pansy, who only inclined her head slightly. Neither girl was particularly fond of the other, and it showed.

"Wands at the ready!" Lockhart shouted. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents—only to disarm them—we don't want any accidents—one… two… three—"

Marigold took a deep breath and everything happened at once, and she was a part of it, she could feel the room, the incantations flying around her.

"Expelliarmus!" Pansy hissed; a scarlet light burst from her wand.

Marigold drew a shield with her wand _Protego._ The scarlet light dissipated in front of her. Marigold was aware that Ron's wand had already flown out of his hand having been excellently disarmed by Hermione. But none of that mattered. Pansy was advancing, anger flashed across her face as she tried to disarm Marigold again.

Backing away, and shielding herself again, Marigold was aware that Lockhart was screaming at Harry and Malfoy, and Malfoy was laughing hysterically. But scarlet light shot at Marigold again and again.

Marigold deflected, and with a disarming charm of her own, Pansy's wand flew out of her hand.

With a wild yell, Pansy charged at her, ignoring her wand as it rolled across the floor. Alarmed, Marigold put up her arms to defend her face. There was a lot of hair pulling, and tousling.

Eventually Marigold felt arms pulling her away; a small chunk of Pansy's hair came with her. But Pansy managed to rip her robe sleeve as Malfoy pulled her away.

Neville helped Marigold up, and she tucked the hair discreetly in her pocket.

A greenish haze of smoke was hovering over the scene and Pansy, was looking disheveled and downright murderous.

"Dear, dear," Lockhart said, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. It seemed Hermione and Marigold were some of the few who hadn't gotten hurt in some fashion. "Up you go, Macmillan… careful there, Miss Fawcett, pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second…

"I think I'd better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells," he said, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glistened and looked away quickly. "Let's have a volunteer pair—"

"How about Malfoy and Potter?" Snape interjected with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" Lockhart said, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry, when Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

Lockhart raised his wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Marigold was pretty sure that he had made that complex maneuver up on the spot.

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked too. Marigold really hoped Harry remembered what she had taught him last year when Malfoy had challenged Harry to a duel, but judging by the duel he had just had, she doubted it. Harry looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" Malfoy muttered.

When Pansy giggled from the other side of the clearing, Marigold fought the urge to throw up a little.

"You wish," Harry said out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

Marigold chuckled but Lockhart wasn't listening.

"Three—two—one—go!"

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "Serpensortia!"

The end of his wand exploded and a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily on the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. Screams echoed around the hall and the crowd backed swiftly away, Justin Finch-Fletchley bumped into her without noticing.

"Don't move, Potter," Snape said, lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it…"

"Allow me!" Lockhart shouted.

He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Right in front of her and Justin! Enraged, hissing furiously, the snake raised itself up again, fangs exposed, and poised to strike Justin.

Without thought Marigold moved in front of Justin, but paused part in front of him and part to the side, when a loud hissing sound filled the room. The hiss got louder, like a shout, and the snake crumpled to the floor, docile. Confused, Marigold looked up and saw Harry grinning at her and Justin.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Justin shouted, looking between Harry and Marigold. And before anyone could say anything, Justin shoved Marigold away and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape was looking at Harry with a shrewd and calculating look. Marigold, noticing the anxious whispers, quickly rushed toward Harry and grabbed him by the sleeve. Making sure Neville was behind them, she pulled him out of the Great Hall.

As they passed through the crowd, the people on either side of them drew away frightened. Harry was confused and protested, but Marigold shushed him, and pulled him all the way back to the common room.

Marigold pushed him into a chair. "What was that?" she demanded.

"What was what?" Harry asked, still confused.

"You're a Parselmouth." Neville said.

"A what?" Marigold and Harry asked, turning to Neville.

"A _Parselmouth_!" Neville said, like that clarified it any more. "You can talk to snakes."

"I know," Harry said. "I mean, that's only the second time I've ever done it. I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once—long story—but it was telling me it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to—that was before I knew I was a wizard—"

"A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?" Marigold repeated weakly, sitting down.

"So?" Harry said defensively. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"No… they can't." Neville said. "It's not a common gift, Harry, this is bad."

"What's bad?" Harry said angrily. "What is wrong with you guys? If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin and Mar—"

"Oh, that's what you said?"

"What do you mean? You were there—you heard me—"

"I was standing right next to Justin, Harry," Marigold said. "I heard loud hissing and that's it."

"You could have been saying anything," Neville said. "It's no wonder Justin sounded panicked… you sounded like you were egging it on or something… it was really creepy"

Harry gaped at the two of them.

"I was speaking a different language? But—I didn't realize—how can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Marigold knew this was bad by Neville's expression, but she was just as confused as Harry was.

"Would you just tell me what's so bad about stopping a massive snake from biting Justin's head off?" he said. " What does it matter _how_ I did it as long as Justin doesn't have to join the Headless Hunt?"

"It matters because Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes, Harry, that's why the Slytherin crest is a serpent."

Harry's mouth fell open.

"Oh," Marigold said putting it all together. "If the school wasn't convinced already that Harry was the heir of Slytherin, they will be now."

"Exactly," Neville said.

"But I'm not," Harry said in a panic.

"I think that would be hard to prove Harry," Marigold sighed. "I know you didn't open the Chamber of Secrets, but Salazar Slytherin lived thousands of years ago, it's entirely possible that you could in fact be his heir."

Neville and Harry went up to bed when students started coming into the common room and giving the three of them a wide berth.

Marigold decided that she might as well go up to bed herself. She tucked the hair she grabbed from Pansy in a small vile in her trunk. Now all that was left for the Polyjuice Potion was a bit of whomever Neville and Harry were going to turn into.

It wasn't long before her dorm mates joined her. None of the girls talked to her when they crawled into their beds. Fae Dunbar gave her a look of disgust, but that wasn't out of the ordinary for Fae. Marigold smiled back at her, and a knowing look crossed over Fae's face as she closed the curtains around her bed.

Marigold closed her own curtains and stared at nothing for hours. Tossing and turning, she couldn't get the day's events out of her head. She finally fell asleep in the early morning.

Marigold saw herself sitting next to the lake; Harry's mum was sitting beside her. There was snow over the grounds of Hogwarts. Snowflakes danced around the two redheads. Marigold was older, the same age as Harry's mum. She looked like she did when she saw herself in the Mirror of Erised last year.

Loud laughter got their attention and Marigold watched as she and Lily Evans turned toward the noise.

A group of Slytherin students were cavorting across the grounds, loud laughter that sounded familiar yet different reached her ears. As the group got closer she recognized the students. Draco Malfoy, the way Marigold imagined he would look as a seventh year, was laughing with another student who looked greasy and gross. With a lurch, Marigold realized it was Snape as a young student. He wasn't laughing, but a smile crinkled his hooked nose.

They were talking, and Marigold, standing behind herself and Lily Evans, couldn't tell what they were saying until they got closer.

"Can you believe those two Mudbloods? Thinking they belong?" Malfoy sneered. Stopping in front of the three girls.

Snape sneered.

"What do you say?" Malfoy asked someone behind him, drawing his wand. "Should we show them their place?"

A loud hissing noise answered him.

Malfoy turned to a boy, well a man, with floppy black hair, round glasses, and bright green eyes. Marigold saw him raise his wand at the three of them, and let out a loud hiss.

"Harry, no!" Lily screamed.

Marigold woke up in a panic. Covered in sweat and breathing heavily, she rolled over, and, through a small gap in her curtains, she saw snow falling outside. She tried to remember what she had just dreamt about, but it was already fading away, leaving her with an uneasy feeling, and an odd sense of despair.

(A/N: A very special thank you to my amazing editor Genevieve for all her amazing work. Please like and leave a review! Until next time, love you all!)


	12. Holiday Horrors

Chapter 12: Holiday Horrors

(A/N: Hello! I just got out of the hospital (I'm doing alright now) and wanted to post an update for all of you! I want you to know that I love you all and appreciate that you take the time to read the story and leave such wonderful reviews. Please enjoy the really long chapter! Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

Marigold woke up the next morning and got ready for Herbology. But the snow she had watched fall last night had turned into an all out blizzard and Herbology was canceled for the rest of the term, which was quickly approaching.

Marigold and Neville were sitting lazily on the couch next to the fire, enjoying the morning off and watched as Harry paced back and forth. He was huffing and puffing and driving Marigold nuts.

"Just go talk to him, Harry," she finally said, unable to stand his grumbling anymore.

Harry didn't say anything, but left through the portrait hole. Marigold and Neville exchanged glances. Marigold moved, rested her back on the couch arm and stretched her legs out; they nearly reached Neville's legs.

"This isn't good, Nev. I'm worried about Harry."

Neville pulled his knees as close to his body as he could. "I'm worried about both of you."

"Why are you worried about me?" Neville just looked at her like she was an idiot. "Oh, right, that."

"Yeah, _that_."

Marigold hung her head back over the couch arm and groaned. She'd been avoiding thinking about the actual repercussions that were out there for her. She kept putting herself in danger. With Harry and Neville and their quest for answers, with wandering around the castle at night alone with a monster on the loose, with jumping in front of that snake yesterday…

"You might be the best duelist in the school—yeah, I saw you and Pansy—but you aren't invincible Marigold."

"I know." Marigold sighed and looked up at Neville. "What would you want me to do though, I can't exactly hole myself up here in the dormitories for the rest of the year."

"Couldn't you though?"

"Come on, Nev," Marigold groaned.

"I know, I know." Neville's round face looked scared. He looked at her a long moment then turned back to the fire. "I'm just worried."

"Whatever's petrifying Muggleborns, we need to find it and whoever is behind it. I still don't think it's Malfoy, but once the potion is ready we'll know for sure."

"Marigold, do you think—"

But Neville was cut off then the portrait hole burst open and several students fell into the common room. Marigold sat up with a start.

"He did it! He actually did it!" someone was saying.

"Harry attacked Justin!" someone shouted.

"He what?" Marigold jumped up. "That's impossible! It's not even him!"

"We were in class when Peeves started screaming," George said, pushing through the crowd with Fred. The two of them exchanged glances. "That's not all, Justin was petrified sure—"

"But Nearly Headless Nick is the thing," Fred interrupted.

"What about Nearly Headless Nick?" Neville asked, eyes were wide and unblinking.

"He was just floating there, black and smoky," Fred said.

"It was so weird," George agreed, looking freaked out.

"What about Harry?" Marigold asked. Her heart was racing; they still hadn't said anything about Harry.

"Professor McGonagall took him from the scene. Not sure where."

Marigold had to fight the urge to run to Dumbledore, knowing that his office was probably where McGonagall had taken Harry. She knew Dumbledore wasn't going to expel him either, but even though she knew this, she had to physically march herself back to the couch and sit down. Her movement was jerky and unnatural, like her heart was fighting with her brain and her body was caught in the middle.

Neville sat down next to her, and the two of them sat in silence as the common room swirled around them. Marigold rested her head on his shoulder and stared at nothing. The anxious yelling turned to anxious whispers amongst the students, then into chilling silence, and still Harry wasn't back.

The common room cleared out as students made their way to lunch. Marigold didn't move, neither did Neville. The two of them just continued to sit there until the portrait hole opened and Harry crawled through.

Marigold and Neville jumped up. Harry looked surprised to see them, but his surprise was met with Marigold's hair in his face as she gave him a hug.

"You weren't expelled were you?" Neville asked.

"No, Dumbledore didn't think it was me. He just wanted to talk."

"Oh," Neville said.

"We heard what happened from Fred and George," Marigold said, finally letting go of Harry.

"You were right, Neville. I went looking for Justin and his friends were talking in the library. Talking about me. They were all convinced I'm the heir, and they also think I'm a dark wizard since I defeated Voldemort as a baby…"

"How is that even related?" Marigold asked.

"I don't know, but they all seemed really scared when I asked them where Justin was… and on the way back from Dumbledore's office, everyone ran away from me…"

"Well, we won't go anywhere," Marigold said firmly.

"Right, we're with you, Harry," Neville agreed. "We'll figure this out."

Everyone was more concerned about the fate of Nearly Headless Nick than that of Justin, and the panic in the halls increased every day. Eventually it culminated in most of the students deciding to go home for the holiday, and they raced to their heads of house to change their signature. There had been a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express.

Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays and when Malfoy didn't change his mind about going home they didn't either. But they were some of the only Slytherin's to do so. Harry was happy about everyone deciding to leave. He was getting really tired of everyone skirting around him in the corridors, as though he were going to attack them. Marigold could understand how all their muttering, pointing, and hissing could get annoying.

Marigold actually had a Ravenclaw girl come up to her and ask her why she was continuing to be friends with Harry, and if she was scared. Marigold just laughed at the girl and told her she wasn't scared because Harry wasn't the one attacking people. The Ravenclaw girl didn't seem convinced, and told her if she were a Muggleborn, she would stay far, far away from Harry.

Marigold didn't tell Harry about that encounter.

Fred and George were doing their best to cheer Harry up, finding the entire situation hilariously ridiculous. The two of them went out of their way to march ahead of Harry, Marigold, and Neville, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, his next victim, and his accomplice! Seriously evil wizard coming through! Better get out of his way!"

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.

"It's not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," Fred said. "Harry's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's got to take Marigold here down to the Chamber of Secrets for a _sacrifice_!" George said, chortling.

Ginny, looking worse than ever, didn't find it amusing either.

"Oh, don't," she wailed every time Fred asked Harry why he hadn't attacked his best friend yet, or when George pretended to ward Harry off with a large clove of garlic when they met.

Marigold was conflicted, she was happy the two of them were doing all this for Harry. Making the whole thing seem like a ludicrous joke seemed to put Harry at ease. Marigold assumed it was because their antics reassured him that at least they were on his side. On the other hand, Ginny seemed worse by the day, and she really wished Ginny would get better

At long last, the term ended. Once the hustle and bustle of the students going home faded away, a silence as deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. It was beautiful. Marigold, Harry, and Neville were joined in the Gryffindor tower only by the Weasleys.

It was wonderful; the only thing that could make it better was if the rest of the Weasleys could be there. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had decided to go visit Bill in Egypt and Charlie had work, and it wasn't like they could come to Hogwarts for the Holidays. Marigold and the others had been invited to Egypt, of course, but all had decided to stay, for one reason or another. Percy didn't spend much time in the common room, being very disapproving of what he termed their childish behavior.

Being the only ones in the common room, they could play Exploding Snap as loudly as they wanted without bothering anyone. The common room was warm and fun, everyone was doing their best to ignore what was going on in the rest of the castle, and it was working.

Marigold woke up Christmas morning and made her way to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, enjoying the chill in the castle. She added the last bit of lacewing flies. At long last, the potion was ready! She wished Myrtle a happy Christmas and was met with crying, but she didn't let that discourage her.

Racing back to her dormitory, she grabbed her presents from her trunk; she had had Mrs. Weasley purchase them for her and mail them to her. Rushing up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, she barged into the room waking up Neville and Harry in the process.

"Get up you guys, it's Christmas!" she yelled, jumping up onto Neville's bed jostling him awake. "I've been up for what seems like forever. The potion is finally ready!"

Harry, who had been groggy moments before, shot up in bed.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely positive, we can use it tonight. But never mind that, I have presents."

At that, Neville shot up in bed. Marigold and Harry laughed.

"You first, Nev," Marigold said, handing him his gift.

Neville tore through the molten gold paper and uncovered a rather large pot.

"It's for Dora. It's a self watering pot. When you transfer her into it, it will automatically figure out what species of plant she is and will water her accordingly," Marigold explained.

Neville turned over the pot, it had pretty green, blue, and purple moving swirls that kept changing patterns.

"This is amazing, Marigold!" Neville got out of bed, detangled his spotted pajamas, and went over to the Tiger Lily and began transferring her to her new home.

"Okay, your turn, Harry!" Marigold gently tossed him his gift.

Harry ripped off the wrapping paper and found a book inside.

"It's a self organizing notebook," Marigold said, blushing. "It automatically checks your spelling and grammar and makes your handwriting legible. I know you're still having trouble with quills and smudging, so I figured this would help."

"Marigold, it's perfect!"

"Alright, Harry, here's mine." Neville said, wiping his hands on his pajamas and sitting back down on his bed. He tossed Harry a present wrapped in bright blue paper. Neville's hands still had a little dirt on them, and when Harry caught the present, it had fingerprints on it.

"A broomstick servicing kit?" Harry asked, pulling out the box.

"Yeah, it has everything you could need for taking care of your broom."

"Wow, a compass too?" Harry said, examining everything.

"Yeah! It hooks onto the front of your broom!"

"Cool!"

Neville handed Marigold her present next. It was wrapped with flowery paper. It was a book about magical flowers and their properties, and how Muggles had happened upon them and made legends about them. Marigold loved it.

Neville was next; getting a game for the Gameboy Harry had gotten him for his birthday. He still hadn't had a chance to play on it since he had no way to charge it, and Hogwarts castle kept interfering with the circuits.

Harry tossed Marigold her present last, then they all opened gifts from everyone else. Harry had gotten her a new school bag; it had a small dragon pin on the strap. Marigold was ecstatic since her old bag had been slowly falling apart all year.

Mrs. Weasley had sent Harry, Marigold, and Neville new hand-knitted sweaters and cakes. And while Harry and Neville talked about and tinkered with their gifts, Marigold opened a letter from Charlie; inside she found tons of pictures of dragons. Excited, she leafed through them, dragons of all kinds were at the reserve where Charlie worked. Seeing all of them, and watching the way they moved in the pictures was amazing.

There was also a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper and tied together with twine. Inside, she found several dragon scales overlapping one another making an intricately chained bracelet. It was a little jankey because the scales were from different dragons, but it fit her perfectly. It was evident that Charlie had made it.

Marigold wondered how she had become the dragon girl. Every holiday people gave her dragon related gifts. She loved it.

They spent the rest of the day lounging around and playing games with Fred and George in the common room. Ginny joined in for awhile, but most of the time she rested. Fred and George were convinced that she was just suffering from First Year Fever, something they said a lot of students got.

Marigold could tell that Harry and Neville were just as nervous as she was about taking the Polyjuice Potion later that night. But not even their dread could take away from the sheer magic of a Christmas feast at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. There were a dozen frost-covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling. Marigold was doing her best to avoid those patches after she and Neville caught two fifth years snogging in a corner before Professor Flitwick came rushing over to tear them apart. Enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. The snow clung to the students momentarily before melting away to nothing.

Dumbledore led them all in a few of his carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Dumbledore looked younger than the last time Marigold had seen him. Fred had bewitched Percy's prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," and Percy couldn't figure out what everyone was giggling about.

Marigold almost felt guilty about ushering Neville and Harry out of the hall. Almost… she would probably feel guiltily if this whole thing had been her idea in the first place.

"We still need a bit of who the two of you are changing into," Marigold said. "It would be best if you can get something off Crabbe and Goyle they're his best friends so he'll tell them anything. We also need to make sure they don't walk in while we are talking to Malfoy.

"I got it all figured out." Marigold handed the two of them small frosted cookies. "I made a sleeping drought this morning, while working on the Polyjuice Potion, and filled these up. You just need to get them to eat them and once they are asleep hide them in a broom closet and steal their hair."

"Their hair," Neville repeated dumbly.

"I mean, you could also take their toenails if you prefer," Marigold teased.

"Who are you changing into then?" Harry asked ignoring Neville's gagging.

Marigold frowned. "Pansy Parkinson. I ripped out a chunk of her hair when we were dueling. She went home for the holidays, so I'll just have to tell Malfoy I decided to stay."

"Uh, Marigold, Pansy fawns all over Malfoy…" Neville said.

"Don't remind me, I've been trying to ignore her all year in potions. If I have to hear _'Oh, Malfoy, I copied my notes for you. Oh, Malfoy, you're so great at Quidditch. Oh, Malfoy, I wish I could stay for Christmas and snog you under some mistletoe,'_ I think I'll puke," Marigold deadpanned.

"If I have to hear you do that again, I think _I'll_ puke," Harry said.

"That's fair," Marigold agreed. "I have a couple things I have to do, meet me in the bathroom."

About twenty minutes later, all three of them were staring into the thick, dark, bubbling, mud-like potion. The boys had pulled off the plan flawlessly. They even grabbed Crabbe and Goyle's shoes. Marigold had gone to grab them some larger robes, which she handed over to the two of them.

"Get changed, once you are Crabbe and Goyle, you won't fit into your robes," she said, handing over the clothes.

All three of them changed into their new robes. Pansy Parkinson was considerably bigger than Marigold too, but that was just because Marigold was small. Pansy might be pug faced, but she wasn't nearly as large as Crabbe or Goyle.

"Now what?" Neville asked. His new robes weren't that much bigger on him, but Harry was swimming in his.

"We separate the potion into three glasses, add the hair, and drink."

Marigold ladled the potion into the three glasses. It kind of slopped in. Uncorking her vile of hair, she dumped it into the glass. The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly as the hair sank into the potion. A second later, it had turned a rather putrid pea soup green.

Following her lead, Harry dropped Goyle's hair into his glass, and Neville put Crabbe's into his. Their glasses hissed and frothed. Harry's glass looked like a booger, and Neville's a dark, sludgy brown.

"On the count of three then?" Marigold asked.

"Right," Harry agreed. Neville just nodded.

"Okay… one—two—three—"

Marigold and the boys downed as much of the potion as they could in one gulp. Marigold gagged, it tasted like boiled, overcooked cabbage. Neville very nearly puked, and, gulping down the last of his potion, made a mad dash to one of the toilets where Marigold and Harry could hear him heaving. Marigold downed hers, dropped the glass, and ran to her own stall.

Her body started shaking and she doubled over in pain. Then, suddenly, a burning sensation spread rapidly from her stomach to the very ends of her fingers and toes. That burning sensation turned into her insides melting, she watched as her hands and arms bubbled like the potion had moments before. Her hair felt like it was growing at least two inches in the span of seconds. It was not a good feeling.

And then suddenly, it was over. Marigold opened her stall and walked out. Harry was face down on the cold floor, except he wasn't Harry anymore. Marigold, as Pansy, helped Harry, who now looked like Goyle, up off the floor. Astonished, Harry pulled off his glasses.

"Weird," Harry said with Goyle's low raspy voice.

"You ok, Neville?" Marigold asked with Pansy's whiney voice.

"Yeah," Neville said, opening his stall. Crabbe walked out.

The three of them stood a moment and then raced for the mirror. Sure enough, Pansy Parkinson was staring back at her. She moved her hair around, and Pansy moved her hair in the mirror.

"Ok, ok, ok," Marigold said, looking away from the mirror. "We have to get going, we only have fifty five minutes to go to the Slytherin common room, talk to Malfoy, and make it back here."

The three of them made their way to the dungeons. Marigold found it difficult to walk since Pansy's weight and height were much greater than her own. It was weird getting used to having her weight distributed differently, so she came down harder with each step. Not that it was very out of character for Pansy to be stomping about.

Marigold realized very suddenly, as they took their third turn in the dungeons, that she had no idea where they were going. She had somehow forgotten to figure out where the Slytherin common room was! She had planned everything else so perfectly too!

After eating into another ten minutes of their time, the three of them turned a corner and ran smack dab into Malfoy. For the first time, and definitely the last time, Marigold was happy to see him.

"There you are," he said, turning to Crabbe and Goyle. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I have something funny to show—Parkinson? What are you doing here?"

"I decided to stay for the holidays, Malfoy, surprise!" Marigold said, pretending very desperately to be interested in every word Malfoy said.

"I haven't seen you at all? No matter, let's go. I have something funny to show you."

Malfoy turned around and walked away, Marigold, Harry, and Neville followed. If Malfoy was suspicious at all about Pansy being in the castle, he didn't show it. Marigold was pretty sure that he didn't really care one way or the other.

Malfoy paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall.

"What's the new password again?" he asked Harry.

"Er—" Harry said.

"Oh, yeah— _pure-blood_!" Malfoy said, not listening. A stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it, and the three of them followed.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and a ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them. One stretch of wall was made up of thick windows with what looked like water behind them. Marigold realized, amazed, that they were looking into the lake!

The room was empty; the rest of the Slytherins must still be at the feast, or in bed, or snogging.

"Wait here," Malfoy said, motioning them to chairs set back from the fire. "I'll go get it—my father's just sent it to me—"

Curious what Malfoy was going to show them, Marigold and the boys sat down, doing their best to look at home. It helped that Crabbe and Goyle always looked lost.

Malfoy came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. He thrust it under Harry's nose.

"That should give you a laugh," Malfoy said.

The three of them looked down at the clipping.

 **INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.

"Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

"Well?" Malfoy said impatiently as Harry handed the clipping back to him. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," Harry said bleakly.

Marigold was sick to her stomach, but she said with a giggle, "I think its funny, Malfoy!"

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," Malfoy said, ignoring Marigold. "You'd never know the Weasleys were purebloods, the way they behave. And taking in that Mudblood nobody, Rosenberg. As if that family could sink no lower!"

Marigold and Harry were doing their best to brush off that comment, but Crabbe's face was contorted with fury.

"What's wrong with you, Crabbe?" Malfoy snapped.

"Ate too much," Neville grumbled.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick for me," Malfoy said, snickering "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet," he went on thoughtfully. "I supposed Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's happened to this place. He loves Muggleborns. A decent headmaster would let slime like that Creevey in."

Malfoy started taking pictures with an imaginary camera and did a cruel but accurate impression of Colin. Marigold was livid, but forced a smile on her face and laughed along with Malfoy, Pansy's annoying laugh echoing through the common room.

But Neville and Harry were just sitting there. Malfoy dropped his hands and looked at the two of them. Marigold gave then a look and they forced themselves to laugh. Marigold glared at the two of them, she had told them to act casual. But Malfoy seemed satisfied with their laughter. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle were just this slow on the uptake.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend," Malfoy said slowly. "He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that stupid Rosenberg. And people think _he's_ Slytherin's heir!"

Marigold looked at Harry and Neville. Crabbe and Goyle were hanging on to Malfoy's every word.

"I _wish_ I knew who it _is_ ," Malfoy said petulantly. "I could help them."

"You must have some idea who it is, Malfoy," Marigold cooed.

"You know I haven't, Parkinson," Malfoy snapped. Marigold feigned hurt. "Father won't tell me anything about last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, be he knows all about it and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I do know one thing—last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them is killed this time… I hope its Rosenberg," he said with relish. "Maybe that would put Potter in his place, if his special little girlfriend died—Ha!"

Neville was clenching Crabbe's gigantic fists, and Harry was gritting Goyle's teeth. Shooting them a warning look (Marigold couldn't believe they were getting so visibly worked up, they were going to cause a scene, which was the last thing they needed), Marigold spoke up, "Any idea if the person who opened the Chamber last time got caught, Malfoy?"

"Oh, yeah… whoever it was was expelled," he said. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Harry said puzzled. Marigold was seriously beginning to wonder if Harry wanted to get caught.

"Azkaban—the wizard prison, Goyle," Malfoy said, looking at him in disbelief. "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward."

He shifted restlessly in his chair and said, "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

"Oh no, Malfoy!" Marigold exclaimed.

"Yeah…" Malfoy said. "Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor."

Marigold caught Harry and Neville's eyes and noticed with alarm that they were starting to look more and more like themselves. Jumping up, Marigold mentioned something about leaving something in the Great Hall. She darted out of the common room. She heard Harry and Neville following behind her, chancing a look back; she was thankful that Malfoy wasn't behind them either.

Unfortunately for Harry and Neville, but they were changing back very quickly, so much so, that Harry's large shoes were stomping down the corridors. They made it back to the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

"Wow, Marigold, Malfoy really hates you," Harry said.

"No matter that, what is wrong with you two? Crabbe and Goyle aren't supposed to get angry at Malfoy," Marigold said, hands on her hips.

"Sorry we can't all giggle at him like he's a genius, Marigold," Harry said.

"That— anyways, we didn't learn who's doing the attacking, but we learned a lot actually." Marigold moved into one of the stalls and began to change back into her own clothes. "And on the plus side,' she called out, "I think Mr. Weasley will be very happy to hear about the Malfoy Manor secret chamber."

Without the Polyjuice potion to look forward to, the rest of the Christmas holiday went by rather quickly. Marigold spent some time with Colin and dropped off the gift she had gotten him. He couldn't open it, of course, so she told him what she had gotten him. It was a brand new camera strap with Gryffindor colors on it, that way it would match his robes more than the orange and black strap he had had on before.

Term started and homework got more difficult than ever. If every year was going to keep getting worse and worse as the term went on, Marigold was probably going to lose her mind long before year seven. Neville and Harry were complaining about a rather large stack of homework that Snape had just given them, when the three of them heard an angry shout from the floor above them.

"That was Filch," Harry said, hurrying up the stairs.

With a quick glance between them, Marigold and Neville followed suit. The three of them paused, out of sight, and listened in to what Filch was raving about.

"— _even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to deal with! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore_ —"

His footsteps receded along the corridor, out of sight, and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corridor and were face to face with the ominous writing on the wall. Filch had clearly been managing his usual post. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. With Filch's shouting long gone, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"What's wrong with her now?" Marigold asked, making her way through the inch of water.

Ignoring the OUT OF ORDER sign like always, they walked into the bathroom.

Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before. She seemed to be hiding down her usual toilet. It was dark in the bathroom because the candles had been extinguished in the great rush of water that had left both walls and floor soaking wet.

"What's wrong, Myrtle?" Harry asked.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

Harry waded across to her stall and said, "Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted, emerging with a wave of yet more water, which splashed onto the already sopping floor. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me…"

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you. I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?" Harry asked.

Marigold groaned. Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well, ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I _don'_ t think!"

"Who did this to you?" Marigold asked gently.

"I don't know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," Myrtle said, glaring at Harry. "It's over there, it got washed out…"

Neville and Harry made a dash for the sink where Myrtle was pointing. Marigold stayed and tried to apologize to Myrtle for Harry, but she just ignored her and went back into the toilet to cry.

Marigold walked over to Harry and Neville. The little book was a diary; it had a faded year on it that dated it fifty years ago. Harry opened it eagerly and read out the name on the front, "T. M. Riddle."

"I know that name," Neville said suddenly. "Ron kept complaining about some old award he kept spewing slugs over and had to keep cleaning."

"Oh, yeah," Marigold agreed, "some sort of award of excellence or something. Ron said something about how the poor bloke didn't deserve slugs all over his plaque."

"It's empty!" Harry said, flipping through the soggy pages. "He never wrote in it."

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it?" Marigold asked, confused.

"Must have been Muggleborn," Harry said, pointing to a label on the back cover. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…"

"Hold on a moment," Marigold said, grabbing the diary from Harry. "The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, right? That's what Malfoy said?"

"Yeah?" Neville said. Harry looked like he knew where Marigold was going with this.

"And we know that this diary is fifty years old, and that Riddle got an award of excellence…"

"Oh!" Neville exclaimed.

"So you're saying, what if Riddle got his award for _catching the Heir of Slytherin_?" Harry asked.

"Right! His diary would probably tell us everything we needed to know, like where the Chamber is, how to open it, and what sort of monster lives in it…"

"If that were the case, the person doing the attacks this time wouldn't want this thing just lying around," Harry agreed.

"Only one problem," Neville interrupted. "There's nothing in the diary. Riddle probably just got it as a gift and didn't write in it…"

Marigold paused; Neville did have a point. With a shrug, Harry pocketed the diary anyway.

The next few weeks passed by each one like the last. Harry could oftentimes be found thumbing through the diary. The three of them had gone to find the plaque Riddle had been awarded. The trophy room, a place they hadn't been since the year before when Malfoy had challenged them to a duel and set them up.

The burnished gold shield was tucked away in the corner of a cabinet and didn't hold any information as to why it had been awarded. They did however find Riddle's name on an old Medal for Magical Merit, and on a list of old Head Boy's.

As time went on, the castle fell into an uneasy calm. There hadn't been another attack in weeks, and Professor Sprout was happy to report that the Mandrakes were growing fast.

Marigold and the boys agreed that it was probably only a matter of time before someone else was attacked. Marigold mentioned that the Heir of Slytherin was probably lulling the students and teachers into a false sense of security. After all, opening the Chamber of Secrets and attacking Muggleborns must be getting riskier and riskier with the whole castle on alert.

Professor Lockhart seemed to be under the impression that his mere presence in the school had sent the culprit running. Marigold, Harry, and Neville had been standing in line for Transfiguration class one afternoon when they overheard Professor Lockhart boasting to Professor McGonagall.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he was saying, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.

"You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I wont say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing…"

He tapped his nose again and strode off, leaving a speechless and annoyed professor McGonagall to teach at the students for what was left of their class hour.

Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Marigold, Harry, and Neville had walked into the Great Hall only to be smacked in the face with an abundance of pink.

The whole room was covered in large, lurid pink flowers. Heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling. The three of them sat down and picked confetti out of their eggs and juice.

Marigold looked up at the head table and nudged Harry, who in turn looked up and nudged Neville. Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, was waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. Professor McGonagall's jaw was clenched very tightly, and Snape looked like he was sitting on something very sharp.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty six of you who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all—and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, though. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines. And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be cursed.

Marigold got a valentine half way through the morning's double Charms. One of the dwarfs barged into the classroom and hollered out her name. Her face matching her hair, Marigold tried to hide behind Neville but one of the Ravenclaw girls pointed her out to the dwarf.

The dwarf dropped a small pink and purple, lacy letter in the shape of a heart on her desk and went back to the front of the room looking for another student. A boy from Ravenclaw sunk low in his chair as the dwarf sang him a musical message.

Heart hammering, Marigold gently tore through the seal, opened up the letter, and read the message. Her heart sank. It was obvious very quickly that the dwarf hadn't read the message because Marigold was sure he wouldn't have been allowed to deliver it.

 _Her complexion is as muddy as her blood_

 _Her worth as low as her grades are high_

 _Probably thought this was a love letter_

 _Marigold Rosenberg, no-good go-getter_

Tears stinging the corners of her eyes, Marigold tucked the note away and went back to paying attention to class. Or she tried to… She was surprised at how hurt she felt. Had she actually anticipated getting something nice?

On their way to their next class, Marigold, Harry, and Neville saw a ton of people getting letters or sung to by the dwarves. One unfortunate Hufflepuff girl got a letter that, when she opened it, magical glitter spewed out of it and got in her eyes and hair.

The castle was absolute chaos.

Sitting down in the hallway, waiting for History of Magic, Neville asked Marigold what her note said. With a shrug, (what was the point right?) she handed it to Harry and Neville who read it several times over.

Neville crumpled up the letter and Harry set it on fire. Marigold giggled a little, wiped her eyes, and thanked them. The three of them got up and went into the classroom, only for it to be interrupted several times by more dwarves with love letters.

Lunch was madness. The confetti falling from the ceiling had turned into heart shaped bubbles. Marigold and the boys ate quickly and escaped. The three of them were headed toward their last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, when one of the dwarves caught up with Harry.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!" shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, elbowing people out of the way to get to Harry.

Harry's face turned bright red. Marigold looked around for somewhere to hide Harry, but found a line of first years in line for class. Ginny was watching the scene unfold from the line, her face bright red. It was obvious that she hadn't anticipated being there to watch this all go down. Marigold was looking around frantically, but there was no place to hide Harry.

"I've got a musical message to deliver to 'Arry Potter in person," the dwarf said, twanging his harp in a threatening sort of way.

"Not here," Harry hissed, trying to escape.

Marigold and Neville stood helplessly as the dwarf and Harry tangled over Harry's bag, which split in two. Harry's wand, books, parchment and ink bottle smashed to the floor. Marigold bent down and helped Harry pick everything up before the dwarf could start singing.

"What's going on here?" came the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

Neville bent down and tried to help Harry and Marigold stuff everything into the bag.

"What's all the commotion?" Percy asked, arriving to the pile up.

Harry got up and tried to make a run for it, but the dwarf seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor. Marigold watched wide-eyed as the dwarf sat on Harry's ankles and began to sing

 _His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

 _His hair is as dark as a blackboard,_

 _I wish he was mine, he's really divine,_

 _The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!_

Harry tried to laugh along with everyone else. Marigold shoved the dwarf off his ankles, a little roughly, and Neville helped Harry up. Percy was trying to disperse the crowd, some of whom were crying with mirth.

"Off you go, off you go, the bell rang five minutes ago, off to class now," he said, shooing some of the younger students away. "And you, Malfoy—"

Marigold looked up and saw Malfoy showing Riddle's diary to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Give that back," Harry said quietly.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" Malfoy said, obviously thinking the diary was Harry's.

A hush fell over the onlookers. Ginny was staring from the diary to Harry, looking terrified. Marigold slowly pulled her wand out of her robe.

"Hand it over, Malfoy," Percy said sternly.

"When I've had a look," Malfoy said, waving the diary tauntingly.

"As school prefect—" Percy was saying.

But Harry had been pushed as far as he could go. He pulled his wand out and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

The diary shot out of Malfoy's hands and Neville fumbled but caught it.

"Harry!" Percy said loudly. "No magic in the corridors. I'll have to report this, you know!"

Malfoy was furious and, as Ginny passed him to enter her classroom, he yelled spitefully at her, "I don't think Potter liked your valentine much!"

Ginny covered her face with her hands and ran into class. Malfoy turned to Marigold with a sneer, "I hope you liked yours," he mouthed.

Marigold, wand already outstretched and pointing at Malfoy, found herself being pulled away by Neville and Harry.

Compared to the events of their break, Defense Against the Dark Arts class was exceptionally boring. When class was finally over, Harry, Neville, and Marigold booked it back to the common room, praying they wouldn't be caught or seen by any dwarves.

The three of them hid in the dormitory for the rest of the afternoon. They tried to study, but every so often someone would come bursting through the portrait hole covered in glitter or giggling about something, so they ultimately gave up.

They pondered at length whether or not they should go to dinner, but when all three of their stomachs started growling, they gave in and made their way to the Great Hall.

The bubbles had disappeared, but the ceiling was somehow giving off a soft pink glow. The castle seemed to be calming down. Throughout dinner, the occasional dwarf would pop up, but it seemed like all of the students who were getting valentines had already gotten them.

Harry left the Great Hall early and headed back to Gryffindor Tower. The twins kept teasing him about the valentine he had gotten, and Malfoy was laughing at him from the Slytherin table. Neville went back with Harry, but Marigold decided to stay.

She struck up a conversation with Ginny, who seemed somewhere else. Neither of them said anything about Harry's valentine, and Ginny seemed relieved about that. Marigold just asked her how she was doing, she looked better than she had in awhile, it seemed Christmas had been a good break from the stress of school. Marigold told her that she could talk to her if she felt overwhelmed again, that she wasn't alone.

Marigold was telling Ginny, through tears of laughter, about the poor Hufflepuff girl who had taken a puff of glitter to the face, Ginny actually smiling about it, when a dwarf poked her in the arm. The exhausted dwarf just handed her a small frilly note and walked away. One of his wings was bent and he looked even more miserable than that morning when they all walked in.

Marigold looked over at Draco Malfoy, who was excitedly re-telling the story about Harry's embarrassment to Pansy Parkinson, the only one who seemed to like hearing it again and again.

With a sigh, heart reserved, she peeled open the note and read it. It wasn't a poem, but something else.

 _Happy Valentines Day, Marigold,_

 _I think you are very pretty and kind_

 _I think you are magic_

 _I think I like you_

 _And I think one day I'll tell you that_

Marigold looked up into the Great Hall. While she looked over the letter again, a lot of students cleared out of the hall. Who could have sent this? She was always able to recognize Dumbledore's handwriting, or Charlie's, or Mrs. Weasley's, just by what was on the letter, but she didn't recognize this handwriting. It was kind of sloppy, but otherwise indistinct.

Quickly excusing herself from the table, unable to keep from beaming, telling Ginny she would talk to her later, Marigold raced back to Gryffindor tower.

The common room was empty, except Neville who was sitting by the fireplace like usual. Stuffing the note into her robes, Marigold flopped down on the couch next to him, still beaming. Trevor, who had been sitting on Neville's lap, jumped out and hopped away. Leaning up against the arm of the couch, she stretched her legs out with a sigh.

"Harry go off to bed?" she asked, hoping she sounded casual.

"Yeah, he said something about the diary and took off," Neville said.

"Ah, yes, the mysterious empty diary someone flushed down the toilet. I don't know why he keeps ahold of it. It was also flushed down a toilet so I really don't know why he sleeps with it," Marigold said.

She was giggling, feeling giddy, and she wanted to tell her best friend about the cool note, not talk about Harry's diary.

"Probably because it's the last lead we have on the Chamber of Secrets," Neville said.

"Probably."

Marigold turned to Neville, who had a look of concern on his face. Marigold, smile fell from her face, as she turned around to see Harry, sweating and shaking, panting from bounding down the stairs.

"It was Hagrid, guys, Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets," Harry blurted, panting but confident.

(A/N: Thank you for reading! If you feel up to it, leave a review or like and follow if you haven't already! Until chapter 13!)


	13. You Musssst be Joking

(A/N: Hello! Happy Holidays! I want you to know that I love you all and appreciate that you take the time to read the story and leave such wonderful reviews. Please enjoy the chapter! Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

Marigold looked at Harry as if he were mad. Standing in front of them, Marigold noticed Riddle's diary in his hands.

"What do you mean, it was Hagrid, Harry?" Neville asked.

"This diary, it's not empty!" Harry said, as if that magically cleared everything up. Marigold and Neville just looked at him, egging him to go on.

"Ok, so remember when the dwarf ripped my bag and ink spilled over all my things?" Harry asked, walking over and standing in front of them. Marigold and Neville just nodded. "Well, the diary didn't get soaked in ink. So I went upstairs and wrote something in it… Now, hear me out, Riddle wrote back to me."

"What?" Marigold asked. That wasn't possible.

"He wrote back to me, he said he put his memories into the diary. Not only that, but he knew about the Chamber of Secrets. He showed me his memory, and who opened it."

"Harry, that's so danger—"

"What did he show you?" Neville interrupted.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle was trying to get permission to stay at Hogwarts over the summer, but the Chamber had been opened and a girl died, so the headmaster said no. Then it shifted to Riddle confronting Hagrid about a monster he had, and that Riddle knew Hagrid didn't want anyone to die, but a monster is a monster. So Riddle tried to kill the monster, but it got away!"

"Did you actually see the Chamber of Secrets?" Marigold asked.

"Well, no."

"Then maybe it wasn't Hagrid," Marigold suggested. "Maybe, just maybe, Riddle got it wrong."

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," Harry said miserably. "The attacks must have stopped after Hagrid got expelled, otherwise Riddle wouldn't have gotten his reward."

"That could have been a coincidence, just like how there hasn't been an attack since Christmas!" Marigold added.

"Maybe we should talk to Hagrid about it," Harry suggested.

"Oh yeah, lets just go up to our friend and asked if they killed someone! Let's go for a little stroll down to his house and ask him if he's a wizard supremacist and if he hates Muggleborns. Who knows, maybe he's hated _me_ since last year even though he got me Christmas gifts and has been oh so NICE!" Marigold snapped. "No, I don't believe it was Hagrid. Just because we ran out of leads doesn't mean I am going to entertain this idea another second! So no, I won't take any part in whatever this is."

Marigold got up in a huff. She got up so quickly in fact that the letter fell out of her robes.

"Hey, didn't we destroy that?" Harry said, making a grab for the letter.

"No!" Marigold said, quickly grabbing it away. "I mean… this is a different one."

Face bright red and burning, Marigold turned toward the staircase. She still tried to stomp off for effect, but her dramatic exit had been thwarted by the letter.

When she got up to her dormitory, she grabbed her planner from the end table next to her bed. And, using a sticking charm so that it wouldn't fall out, she affixed the little note to the back cover of the book.

She didn't put any more thought into Hagrid opening the Chamber of Secrets. It absolutely wasn't him and it would be insulting if she even considered it.

Marigold fully invested all of her time and energy into her schoolwork, she didn't think about the diary, Hagrid, or the Chamber of Secrets… She _did_ think about the letter every time she grabbed her journal though. Time passed, and soon enough, it had been four months since the attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. Everyone seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Peeves had finally gotten bored with taunting Harry, and even Ernie MacMillan asked Harry quite politely to pass a bucket of leaping toadstools in Herbology one day.

Easter crept up on them very quickly, and with it the prospect of a future. The time had come to choose what subjects they would be taking for their third year. Marigold and Hermione agonized over the whole idea. The two of them ultimately found themselves signing up for everything.

Harry half heartedly just closed his eyes and jabbed his wand on the paper and signed up for wherever it landed. Neville had a constant stream of mail coming in from his relatives suggesting what classes he should take. Marigold found him muttering to himself in the common room late one night with all the letters spread out around him.

"Nope," Marigold said, collecting all the letters and hiding them behind her back. "The choice is completely up to you."

"Come on, Marigold, give them back," Neville begged, grabbing at the papers.

"No! You are driving yourself mad with these, just sign up for what you find interesting."

In the end, Harry and Neville signed up for the same classes, figuring at least the two of them could be together to figure it all out.

Harry had a Quidditch match against the Hufflepuffs coming up, and Wood was working the whole team into the ground. Harry barely had time to do his homework because Wood had them practicing every night.

The evening before Saturday's match, Marigold went to bed early, wanting to get up and study for the final exams before the match. They still weren't for a long time, but Hermione had already been studying for weeks and Marigold felt behind somehow.

Marigold woke up the next morning, just like she had planned to. However, Harry and Neville marched downstairs and interrupted her. She hadn't anticipated the two of them being up for a while. But when they came down the stairs, Marigold knew something was wrong.

The two of them sat down and Harry whispered under his breath, "Someone trashed our dormitory yesterday. Riddle's diary is gone!"

"What? But Harry, only a Gryf—"

"I know, only a Gryffindor could have stolen it."

The three of them made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry went and sat with the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Marigold and Neville went and sat with Hermione and Ron. After a quick pep talk from Wood, and an even quicker breakfast, the three of them left the Great Hall and made their way to the Quidditch pitch. Well, they did until Harry paused, slack jawed, and very confused.

"What's wrong," Neville asked.

"The voice," Harry whispered, "I just heard it again, didn't you?"

Neville shook his head, but Marigold cursed.

"Wha—"

"Never mind that, Harry, you go to the Quidditch match, I need to go check something."

Marigold turned and nearly ran into Hermione.

"Careful, Marigold," Hermione said.

"Hermione!" Marigold exclaimed. "Can I borrow you a moment?"

Confused, Hermione nodded. The boys, shaking their heads, continued on to the Quidditch pitch. Marigold started walking, Hermione followed.

"Hermione, I need your help. You know your way around the library better than I do."

"The library?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"I need to find something, and quickly," Marigold explained. "I think Slytherin's monster is a snake. A snake that can petrify and kill people."

"Oh my god, that makes so much sense, why didn't I think of it?!"

Marigold proceeded to tell Hermione everything she knew. She told her about Hagrid's dead chickens, the odd behavior of the spiders, everything she could think to mention; everything except the voice Harry heard. The voice that had tipped her off in the first place.

The two of them made it to the library and began looking. It was clear in minutes that Marigold had made the right decision in bringing Hermione along. With a squeal, Hermione rushed over to Marigold, who had been looking in the wrong section of course, an old leather-bound book was in her hands. Hermione flipped to the page her finger was separating and handed the book to Marigold.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of it's eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.

Marigold looked up at Hermione, "This is it! But how come it only petrified everyone?"

Hermione paused, lost in thought. Marigold could see the gears turning in her head. "Nobody's looked it directly in the eyes," she finally said. "Justin must have seen it through Nearly Headless Nick, who can't die again. There was a ton of water on the ground when Mrs. Norris was petrified. Colin…"

"Colin had his camera…" Marigold finished.

"What are you guys doing in here?" someone asked.

Marigold and Hermione looked up and found themselves face to face with a pretty Ravenclaw girl with long curly hair. She had a Prefect's badge and was looking at them sternly.

"Why aren't you at the Quidditch match?" she asked, looking between the two of them.

"Do you have a mirror?" Hermione asked.

"A mirror?" the girl repeated, raising her eyebrow.

"Slytherin's monster is a Basilisk," Hermione said.

"We need a mirror," Marigold said, ignoring the girl's gaping and sputtering, having put together what Hermione had figured out. "We need to go talk to a professor."

"Right, right of course," the girl said, digging in her bag and pulling a small mirror out. "As Prefect, I'll go with you."

Marigold quietly ripped the page about the Basilisk out of the book. She walked behind Hermione and the girl, who introduced herself as Penelope Clearwater. Hermione and Penelope looked around the corners with the mirror, huddling together. Not having enough room with them, Marigold followed behind.

Hermione was fervently explaining things to Penelope when they looked around the next corner. Hermione stopped mid sentence and Marigold watched in shock as the two girls froze up. Covering her eyes in her hands, Marigold heard as Hermione and Penelope fell to the ground with a thud.

Marigold froze, keeping her hands over her eyes. She didn't dare open them. After what felt like an eternity, a loud gasp alerted her to someone else's presence. Marigold still kept her hands pressed to her eyes. She was pressing so hard that a kaleidoscope of stars and shapes stretched out behind her eyelids into eternity.

"Oh my heaven's!" McGonagall's voice echoed through her head. She sounded so far away.

A rush of feet came out of nowhere, running towards them.

"Poppy! They're just lying here!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed.

Marigold slowly lowered her hands, keeping her eyes shut as tight as she physically could.

"Merlin's beard, Rosenberg you're—what happened here?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Marigold didn't say anything.

"Marigold, it's ok. Please tell us what happened," Professor McGonagall said, moving over to her.

Marigold still didn't say anything.

With several minutes of coaxing, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall convinced Marigold to slowly open her eyes. When she did, she promptly wished she hadn't.

In the brief second she had opened them she had seen all she could. Lying down on the floor right in front of her, eyes meeting her own, was Hermione. Alive, but petrified. Her eyes wide open in shock, mouth parted from being caught right in the middle of a sentence. To her side was the Prefect girl, her hand gripped tightly on the mirror handle.

Marigold just gaped at Hermione. This was all her fault. If she hadn't dragged Hermione to the library, none of this would have happened. Penelope, too, had just wanted to help them, and look what happened.

Professor McGonagall conjured up stretchers for the two girls, but Madam Pomfrey gently touched Marigold's shoulder and led her ahead.

"All right, dear, this way," Madam Pomfrey said gently.

Marigold didn't say anything as Madam Pomfrey guided her through the castle. Hermione's wide eyes seemed to have been burned into Marigold's brain; every time she blinked there they were.

Madam Pomfrey led Marigold quickly through the castle. When they got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey helped Marigold into one of the beds. Marigold watched as Professor McGonagall lowered Hermione and Penelope into beds, but Marigold's sight was cut off as Madam Pomfrey drew a curtain around Marigold's bed.

Madam Pomfrey disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a deep green vial of potion. Marigold drank it; it tasted like the birthday cake Mrs. Weasley had made her for her birthday.

"Okay, that should keep you cal—"

"Miss Rosenberg," Dumbledore's voice cut Madam Pomfrey off.

Marigold turned toward his voice, and sure enough, Dumbledore had slipped through the curtains.

"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said, taking a chair from her and ignoring her look of annoyance.

"Don't push her, Dumbledore," Madam Pomfrey warned before leaving.

Dumbledore waited a minute, Marigold was sure he wanted her to say something. Her chest felt like it was relaxing, she hadn't realized until then that it had been tight before. Marigold opened her mouth several times, but still couldn't find her words.

"I'm glad you are unhurt," Dumbledore started slowly, "what did you find?"

"It's a Basilisk, sir," she said, finally finding her words.

Dumbledore didn't seem surprised; of course he wouldn't be surprised.

"I thought I told you not to go looking into this," he said.

"I thought you said to keep _Harry_ away from it," Marigold said, a little more boldly than she had meant. She was suddenly very annoyed with Dumbledore.

"I did, didn't I?" Dumbledore smiled sadly. "This latest attack won't be going unnoticed."

Marigold was confused. None of the attacks had gone unnoticed, the whole school was in hysterics the last attack, and now with one survivor they were going to go absolutely mad. Especially since the only survivor of the attack was Harry's best friend.

"I've heard word that Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, is gathering signatures to get me to step down."

Marigold's eyes went wide with shock, "But you can't step down!"

Dumbledore held up his hand, "With all the signatures there wouldn't be much I could do. However, I don't believe I would be gone permanently. Marigold, it is now more important than ever that you keep Harry away from all of this."

Marigold tried to protest, tried to tell him that trying to keep Harry away from things like this was just about as possible as her dad taking her back in, but Dumbledore stood up.

"I must be leaving now, I know you have questions, but they will have to wait." Dumbledore pulled the curtain back and paused. "Keep them close, Marigold." And with that he was gone.

Marigold had tried to get up, but then Madam Pomfrey showed up, as if she knew Marigold had been trying to get out of bed, and scolded her. She handed her a pale blue potion that tasted like flowers, and after handing her a warm blanket and muttering a lot, Madam Pomfrey left, leaving the curtains to ripple behind her.

Marigold started feeling sleepy. She started dozing off but footsteps woke her up again. A curtain to her left drew and Marigold heard a moan.

"Hermione!" Marigold heard Ron's voice from the other side of her curtain.

"We found her near the library," McGonagall said.

"Marigold was in the library with her!" Marigold heard Neville whimper.

"Yes, she's here too," McGonagall said.

"Please no…"

Marigold's curtain opened and Harry and Neville let out a sigh of relief. Marigold smiled as Neville and Harry rushed to her side. Marigold got a glimpse through the curtain before it closed and saw that Ron was sitting next to Hermione.

"I'm alright," Marigold said sleepily, turning to Neville and Harry.

Neville had tears running down his cheeks.

"When they canceled the game—I didn't think—"

"You're not hurt are you?" Neville asked, cutting Harry off.

"Madam Pomfrey wants to keep her overnight, just to make sure she is okay, but she will be back tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said.

Marigold's eyes felt heavy.

"Let's let her rest. I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," Professor McGonagall said heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

Harry and Neville looked like they wanted to protest, but Marigold was having a really hard time keeping her eyes open.

"Go on, I'm just going to sleep, not much for company," she said with a smile.

Once Professor McGonagall, Harry, Ron, and Neville had disappeared, Marigold slowly drifted away to sleep. If she dreamed she didn't remember them when she woke up the next morning.

The high ceiling of the hospital wing greeted her as she blinked awake. The events of the day before came crashing back as Marigold pulled a strand of hair out of her mouth.

Madam Pomfrey burst through the curtain with a tray of breakfast. Marigold did her best to answer Madam Pomfrey's questions whilst simultaneously stuffing her face with grits. Eventually, long after her breakfast was gone, Madam Pomfrey decided that Marigold was in good enough shape.

"Do you feel safe enough to go back to class?" Madam Pomfrey asked. "Because if not, I'm sure something could be arranged."

"Like a teacher to escort me to and from my classes?" Marigold asked, surprised.

"There are other options as well, but that would be one, yes."

Marigold thought for a moment then shook her head. "I'm alright, and I think that if I have a teacher following me around all the time it would probably cause more harm than good."

"Well, if you are sure, I can't force the matter. Alright then, I will escort you back to your common room." Madam Pomfrey looked as though she _wanted_ to force the matter.

Marigold didn't argue. As they walked back to the common room, Marigold noticed that the castle was abnormally empty for the weekend. As they walked through the corridors, they didn't pass by a single student, not even a Prefect.

Madam Pomfrey left her at the portrait hole and as soon as Marigold climbed through she immediately found herself surrounded by Gryffindors. About a million questions were being hurled at her from all directions. It seemed like every Gryffindor in every year had crowded around her

"Back it up, back it up!" Fred was pushing through the sea of shoulders toward her.

"Yeah, give her some room to breathe! Let's not send her back to the hospital wing," George shouted.

Some of the students tried to protest, but when Marigold didn't make an attempt to answer any of their questions, they slowly dispersed, muttering and grumbling to themselves.

Fred and George led Marigold over to a corner where Harry and Neville were sitting. She passed by Ron, Ginny, and Percy who all looked like someone had died. Marigold sat down next to Harry. Fred and George took one look at the three of them and must have put together that they needed to talk because they didn't linger.

"We went to meet with Hagrid last night," Harry whispered, not bothering to look up from his hands. "Figured, with the attack on the three of you, it was time to ask him about what Tom Riddle told me."

"Didn't learn much though," Neville muttered, also not looking up at her.

"Hagrid got arrested," Harry said.

"He _what_? You must be joking!" Marigold felt like her heart had been punched.

"Not only that, but Lucius Malfoy turned up with all these signatures and now Dumbledore is gone too," Harry groaned.

Even with the heads up Dumbledore had given her she was still surprised. So Dumbledore was actually gone…

"Not to say that all of that isn't terrible… but that wasn't even the worst part of the night," Neville said.

Marigold just looked at him. What could possibly be worse than that?

"There couldn't have been another attack, nobody new was in the hospital wing when I woke up," Marigold said.

"No, no attack," Neville said.

"Well, not in that matter… but we did have quite the battle with a bunch of big spiders."

Marigold looked from Harry to Neville and back to Harry. She thought they had been joking at first, trying to make her feel better about things, but no… they seemed quite serious.

"When they took Hagrid away—we were under the invisibility cloak—he told us to follow the spiders. So, we did…" Neville trailed off.

"They weren't exactly hard to follow once we found a few scuttling through Hagrid's vegetable patch," Harry said. "We followed them deep into the forbidden forest, walked for what seemed like hours. We lost them so suddenly we hardly noticed."

"That was when two of them picked us up." Neville shuddered.

"Picked you up?" Marigold repeated.

"Picked us up," Neville confirmed.

"They carried us deeper into the Forbidden Forest. Eventually they dropped us, we fell hard on the floor of a clearing. All around us were spiders the size of horses. But, the worst part was the way they talked—oh yes, they talked—all clicky and their pincers moved when they talked. The one that was carrying Harry called out to a spider named Aragog. Aragog was the size of an elephant, Marigold, an _elephant_. They were about to eat us, but we told them Hagrid had sent us and they paused to hear us."

"Aragog—I can't believe a spider told us this—but Aragog told us exactly what Tom Riddle's diary told me," Harry said. "Hagrid was expelled for having him, that they thought he was the monster in the Chamber of Secrets—"

"Except Aragog wasn't born in the castle," Neville interrupted, "and he never even saw anything but the cupboard Hagrid kept him in. And the girl that died? She died in a bathroom! So it couldn't have been Aragog. Aragog wouldn't say what did kill that girl, though he did know. Apparently the creature is the mortal enemy of all spiders."

"After finding out all this, we tried to leave, but they tried to kill us again! We made a break for it, but there were so many of them." Neville shivered. "All the spiders, hundreds of them, chicken sized to the horse size, chasing after us through the pitch back Forest. They were gaining too fast, and I tripped." Neville blushed. "Harry came back for me, of course, but in that time we had been surrounded. All was lost until out of nowhere two bright lights pierced through the dark, it was—"

"It was Mr. Weasley's car!" Harry said excitedly. "The Forbidden Forest had turned it feral. Thanks to that car, Neville and I were able to get out!"

Marigold just stared at the two of them, completely astonished. "I get sixteen hours of sleep one night and the two of you up and go on a whirlwind adventure without me? I thought we had an unspoken agreement that we would go on all the dangerous adventures together?"

Neville and Harry laughed.

"We didn't find out anything though, not really anyways," Harry said, his laugh fading away to a sigh.

"Other than the fact that Hagrid is a good matchmaker. Aragog said Hagrid set him up with his wife."

"You also found out something important regarding the girl who died last year," Marigold pointed out.

Harry looked confused, but Neville gasped.

"She died in a bathroom!"

"So what if we know where she—Ohh! Marigold you don't think—"

"I do. I think it was Moaning Myrtle."

"But it's not like we can go ask her about it," Harry groaned, "the castle is under curfew and we are going to be escorted by teachers at all times!"

The three of them leaned back in their chairs. Harry had a point. Trying to go talk to Myrtle would be difficult… Maybe this was for the best. With Dumbledore gone, it really did fall on Marigold to keep Harry out of trouble, and without any way to talk to Myrtle he wouldn't be able to get into any more trouble

"Ugh, I wish Aragog would tell us what the monster is, we're no closer to finding out what it is!"

"I think I can help with that," Marigold said fishing through her robes for the book page. "When you heard that voice yesterday, Harry, it suddenly hit me. Neville and I couldn't hear the voice, so I had thought it was a voice only you could hear. But then I realized, what if it was a voice only _you_ could understand."

Marigold handed the page to Harry, Neville reading over his shoulder.

"Slytherin's monster is a big snake," Marigold said.

(A/N: Thank you for reading! If you feel up to it, leave a review or like and follow if you haven't already! Guess what? For the Holidays, you get two chapters! Two!)


	14. Into the Chamber

(A/N: Happy Holidays! Thank you for reading! Please enjoy the chapter! Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

Trying to sneak away to talk to Moaning Myrtle turned out to be downright impossible. The professors escorted hoards of students everywhere, even to and from the Great Hall for meals. The three of them had tried to sneak out to see her under the invisibility cloak one night, but they didn't get very far before the realized that the halls were too patrolled to risk it. Marigold kept trying to find ways to break away from the ranks, thinking maybe if she went alone it would be easier. Unfortunately, after the last attack, where Marigold was the only one to walk away, all the professors were keeping an extra close eye on her.

Classes were harder than ever, and nobody seemed to be able to focus. With Dumbledore gone, the whole school was even more scared than ever before. Without the ability to roam about the castle, or even go to the library unaccompanied by a professor, the Gryffindor common room was packed at all times. Marigold, Neville, and Harry rarely had any time to talk privately.

Only the Slytherins seemed to be calm about the whole situation, which wasn't escaping the other houses. Worst of all of them was Malfoy, who seemed to think that he himself had something to do with Dumbledore being forced out. He had been strutting around the school for days acting as though he owned the place. It wasn't until about two weeks after Hagrid had been arrested and Dumbledore had left that Marigold overheard why he was more pompous than usual.

It was near the end of double potions and Marigold was just minding her own business working on copying down Snape's notes on the chalkboard when she overheard Malfoy bragging to Crabbe and Goyle.

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Dumbledore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent one now. Someone who won't _want_ the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall wont last long, she's only filling in…"

Marigold felt a white hot flush of rage wash over her. But she kept her mouth shut. Snape swept by, making no comment of Hermione's empty seat in front of Marigold or looking at Marigold at all.

"Sir," Malfoy said loudly. "Sir, why don't _you_ apply for the headmaster's job?"

"Now, now, Malfoy," Snape said, though he couldn't suppress a thin lipped smile. "Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough."

"Yeah, right," Malfoy said, smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, if you wanted to apply for the job— _I'll_ tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir—"

Snape smirked as he swept off around the classroom, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron.

"I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on. Marigold didn't engage, though, with the hair on her neck standing up, she could tell he was looking right at her. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger, but I'll settle for Rosenberg—"

The bell rang in that moment, which was lucky because at Malfoy's last comment, both Ron and Neville had leapt off their stools, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, their attempts to reach Malfoy went unnoticed.

Marigold had grabbed Neville by the arm very quickly and shook her head. Neville tried to protest but she didn't let go. Ron was red faced and furious.

"Let me at him," Ron growled as Dean and Seamus hung onto his arms. "I don't care, I don't need my wand, I'm going to kill him with my bare hands!"

"Hurry up, I've got to take you all to Herbology!" Snape barked over the class's heads.

Snape made quick eye contact with Marigold. Something in his eyes told Marigold that he had heard what Malfoy had said, but she couldn't quite place what it was. It was brief, and then they were off.

Something happened the next day that drove Malfoy's stupid comment and even the Chamber of Secrets out of Marigold's mind for the first time in weeks. Ten minutes into Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall told the class that their exams would start on the first of June, only one week away.

" _Exams?_ " Seamus Finnigan howled. "We're still getting _exams_?"

"The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to continue to receive your education," she said sternly. "The exams will therefore take place as usual, I trust you are all studying hard."

Marigold's stomach churned. Ever since Hermione and Penelope were petrified, and Harry and Neville had told her about Aragog, as well as the three of them trying to talk to Moaning Myrtle, Marigold had completely forgotten about exams! She was studying just enough to get through the next class!

Murmurs echoed around the room, which made Professor McGonagall scowl even more darkly.

"Professor Dumbledore's instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible," she said. "And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year."

Marigold frantically grabbed for her planner and began scribbling a study schedule for herself, Harry and Neville.

With the castle on lockdown and nothing else to do other than sit and stare at nothing, Harry and Neville couldn't go very far to try and avoid Marigold and her insane study schedule. She had them working late into the night, and without Quidditch, Harry didn't have his usual dose of escapism, something he was desperately missing.

Three days before their first exam, Professor McGonagall made an announcement over breakfast.

"I have good news," she said, and the Great Hall, instead of falling silent, erupted.

"Dumbledore's coming back!" several people yelled joyfully.

"You've caught the Heir of Slytherin!" squealed a girl at the Ravenclaw table.

"Quidditch matches are back on!" Wood roared excitedly.

When the hubbub had subsided, Professor McGonagall said, "Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit."

There was an explosion of cheering. Ginny took that moment to come and sit by Marigold. She looked horrible. She was rocking backward and forward slightly.

"What's wrong?" Marigold asked, gently touching Ginny's shoulder to get her attention.

Ginny let out a yelp and Marigold removed her hand at once.

"Marigold, I've got to tell you something," she mumbled, not looking at Marigold.

Marigold was aware that Harry and Neville were closely listening in.

"What is it?" Marigold asked calmly.

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She kept trying and looked like a goldfish trying to breathe on land.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets?" Marigold whispered.

Ginny drew a deep breath, and at that moment Percy plopped down next to Ginny giving her a fright. Her eyes grew wide and she scampered away.

Marigold could have yelled at Percy until she was red in the face, but it didn't matter; Ginny was gone, taking with her whatever information she had wanted so desperately to talk about.

Marigold could think of little else for the rest of the day. She was still wishing she could go and talk to Moaning Myrtle. Gilderoy Lockhart was escorting her and the rest of the other students back to Gryffindor Tower later that morning after their class.

Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong as soon as the words were out of his mouth, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn't as sleek as usual, he had bags under his eyes, and his skin looked grey; it seemed he had been up most of the night on patrol.

"Mark my words," he said, ushering them around a corner. "The first words out of those poor petrified people's mouths will be _'It was Hagrid.'_ Frankly, I'm astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary."

"I agree, sir," Harry piped up, causing Neville to stumble a bit in surprise.

"Thank you, Harry," Lockhart said graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. "I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students everywhere and standing guard all night…"

"With so much on your plate, why don't you leave us here, sir," Marigold said, catching on. "After all, we only have another corridor to go."

"You know, Rosenberg, I think I will," Lockhart said. "I really should go and prepare my next class."

And he hurried off.

Marigold, Harry, and Neville let the rest of the Gryffindors draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Bloody brilliant thinking, Harry," Neville said.

"We can finally get some answers now!" Marigold exclaimed.

As they ran, Marigold got more and more excited that they might get answers now! But even more so, she was excited that Harry would finally be able to stop looking into things. Surely if they got answers and were able to tell the teachers, Harry would no longer need to endanger himself trying to solve the mystery. They whirled around a corridor and only had one more to go when an announcement made them screech to a halt.

Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the corridors, magically magnified.

 _"_ _All students return to their House dormitories at once. Teachers, second floor. Immediately please."_

"Another attack? Now?" Harry gasped.

"Quick, over here." Marigold grabbed the two of them and led them to a broom cupboard, keeping it a crack open.

From the small opening, they couldn't see anything, but they could hear footsteps approaching.

Gasps and cries echoed from the corridor ahead of them. Marigold felt one of the boys grab her arm.

"As you can see, it has finally happened." Professor McGonagall's voice reached them. "A student has been taken by the monster, right into the Chamber itself."

"Who is it?" Professor Sprout whimpered. "Which student."

"Ginny Weasley," Professor McGonagall said.

Marigold's knees gave out and she fell to the ground in a heap. She could hear several teachers crying.

"We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said from further away than the next corridor over. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said—"

Marigold heard footsteps running down the corridor, and watched as a crazy haired Lockhart rushed passed where the three of them were hiding and disappeared into the next corridor.

"So sorry, dozed off, what have I missed?"

"Just the man." Marigold could hear Snape's scowl in his voice. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I—well, I—" Lockhart sputtered.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" Professor Flitwick piped up.

"D-did I? I don't recall—"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Snape said. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

"I—I really never—you may have misunderstood—"

"We'll leave you to it, then Gilderoy," Professor McGonagall said. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free reign at last."

"V-very well," he sputtered. "I'll—I'll be in my office, getting—getting ready."

Marigold heard him scamper away and watched as he passed by the crack in the broom closet.

"Right," Professor McGonagall's voice rang out after Lockhart's footsteps had disappeared. "That's got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories."

Eventually the footsteps disappeared.

"Come on, Marigold, we have to get back to the dormitory," Neville said, trying to help her up off the floor.

"Neville's right, Marigold, we can't be missing," Harry said.

Marigold allowed them to half carry, half drag her back to the Gryffindor common room.

Marigold, Harry and Neville sat down by the fireplace. Ron came and sat down next to her, not saying a word. Fred and George arrived soon after. Marigold didn't know what to say, but she gave Fred and George a hug, and they held on a little too tight and for a little too long. Percy wasn't there, he had gone to send an owl to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then shut himself up in his dormitory.

Marigold didn't like the selfish thought that crept up on her. She knew she should be worrying about Ginny and coming up with a plan, coming up with something to at least make the others feel better… but she thought about herself. With Hogwarts being closed down, what would happen to her scholarship? Would she go back to live with her parents?

Marigold tried again and again to focus on Ginny and some sort of plan, and she succeeded most times, but the thought of going back couldn't be kept down.

Near sunset, Fred, George, and Ron went up to bed, unable to sit there any longer. The rest of the common room cleared out not long after that.

"She knew something," Marigold said, speaking for the first time since hearing the news. "She'd somehow found out something about the Chamber of Secrets or the Heir. That must be why—there's no other reason—she's a pureblood, why else could _she_ have been taken?"

Neither of them said anything. The sun was sinking, blood red, below the skyline. It was then that Marigold had a thought and stood up. Harry and Neville looked alarmed at her sudden movement. Marigold knew she would be going against Dumbledore's order, but the order be damned! She was going to do something, and if Harry followed, he followed.

"I'm going to talk to Lockhart," she said. "I'll tell him what we know. He's going to try and get into the Chamber, apparently. I can at least tell him what we know."

Marigold didn't wait for a response before turning around and marching out of the portrait hole. She heard Harry and Neville scrambling behind her.

Darkness was falling as they walked down to Lockhart's office. There seemed to be a lot of activity going on inside of it. They could hear scraping, thumps, and hurried footsteps.

Marigold knocked on the door and there was a sudden silence from inside. Then the door opened the tiniest crack and they saw one of Lockhart's eyes peeping through it.

"Oh, Miss Rosenberg—Mr. Potter—Mr. Longbottom—" he said opening the door a bit wider. "I'm rather busy at the moment—if you would be quick—"

"Professor, we've got some information for you," Harry said.

"We think it will help you," Marigold added.

"Er—well—it's not terribly—" the side of Lockhart's face that they could see looked very uncomfortable. "I mean—well—all right."

He opened the door and they entered.

His office had been almost completely stripped. Two large trunks stood open on the floor. Robes - jade-green, lilac, and midnight blue - had been hastily folded into one of them; books were jumbled untidily into the other. The photographs that had covered the walls were now crammed into boxes on the desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Er, well, yes," Lockhart said, ripping a life-sized poster of himself from the back of the door as he spoke and starting to roll it up. "Urgent call—unavoidable—got to go."

"What about my sister?" Marigold asked, eyes flashing with rage.

"Well, as to that—most unfortunate—" Lockhart said, avoiding their eyes as he wrenched open a drawer and started emptying the contents into a bag. "No one regrets more than I—"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!" Neville said. "You can't go now! Not with all the Dark stuff going on here!"

"Well—I must say—when I took the job—" Lockhart muttered, now piling socks on top of his robes. "Nothing in the job description—didn't expect—"

"You mean you're _running away_?" Harry said disbelievingly. "After all that stuff you did in your books—"

"Books can be misleading…"

"You wrote them!" Harry shouted.

"My dear children," Lockhart said, straightening up and frowning at them. "Do use your common sense. My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think _I'd_ done all those things." His demeanor had changed. "No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He'd look dreadful on the front cover. No fashion sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a hairlip. I mean, come on—"

"So you've been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?" Harry said incredulously.

"Harry, Harry," Lockhart said, shaking his head impatiently, he was no longer the smiling handsome teacher he had been all year… he wasn't even the scurrying mess he had been moments before, he was… _different_. "It's not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track those people down. Ask them exactly how they managed to do what they did. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn't remember doing it." Marigold slowly began reaching for her wand. "If there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my Memory Charms. No, it's been a lot of work, children. It's not all book signings and publicity photos, you know. You want fame, you have to be prepared to get dirty."

Marigold held her wand at her side, still and furious. Lockhart banged the lids of his trunks shut and locked them.

"Let's see," he said. "I think that's everything. Yes. Only one thing left."

He pulled out his wand and turned on them. But before he could say anything else, Marigold raised her wand. _Expelliarmus._

Scarlet light burst from her wand and Lockhart's wand flew from his hand and clattered to the floor. Moving quickly, Marigold then sent his wand floating out the open window and to the grounds below.

Lockhart stared at her in disbelief. His expression changed to fury and then do defeat when he realized she fully intended to use her wand again if she needed to.

Harry and Neville were staring at her in disbelief.

"How—"

"Take my memory?" Marigold hissed, marching over to Lockhart and sticking her wand in his face. "Take _their_ memories?"

"You little bitch!" he snapped before cowering behind her wand again.

"Oh fight me," Marigold spat, "oh, right, you can't your wand is gone."

"What d'you want me to do?" Lockhart said weakly, back to his useless, pathetic self, so much so that Marigold was surprised he had ever been intimidating. "I don't know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There's nothing I can do."

"You're in luck," Harry said, finding his words. "We think _we_ know where it is. _And_ what's inside it."

"Let's go, and if you make a noise or try to run away, I'll break your knees." Marigold said.

Marigold marched Lockhart out of his office and down the nearest stairs, along the dark corridor where the messages covered the wall. Marigold paused when she saw the newest words:

HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER

Marigold turned back to Lockhart, even more furious than ever and marched him through the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet.

"Oh, it's you," she said when she saw them. "What do you want this time?"

"To ask you how you died," Marigold said.

Myrtle's whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.

"Ooooh, it was dreadful," she said with relish. "It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlocked the door to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then—" Myrtle swelled importantly, her face shining. "I _died_."

"How?" Neville asked.

"No idea," said Myrtle in a hushed tone. "I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away…" She looked dreamily at Harry. "And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she'd ever laughed at my glasses."

"Where exactly did you see the eyes?" Neville asked.

"Somewhere there," Myrtle said, pointing vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet.

Harry and Neville hurried over to it. Marigold kept her wand trained on Lockhart who was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face.

"There's a small snake etched on this one!" Harry called over to Marigold.

"That tap's never worked, " Myrtle said brightly as Harry tried to turn it.

"Harry, say something in Parseltongue," Marigold said.

"But— Open up."

"Still English," Neville whispered.

Harry looked back at the sink, and spoke again. Except this time a strange hissing came out. And at once, the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed. The pipe was large enough for a man to slide into, or a giant snake slither out of.

"I'm going down there," Harry said, determined.

"Me too," Marigold said.

"Me as well," Neville said, trying to sound as determined as Marigold and Harry.

There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," Lockhart said, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just—"

"Move another inch," Marigold warned.

"You can go first," Harry growled.

White faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening, Marigold's wand jabbed in his back.

"What good would it do?" he asked, his voice feeble.

Marigold just rolled her eyes and pushed him in. Once he slid out of sight, she followed.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. Marigold could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but not as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward. Marigold knew she was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. She could hear Harry and Neville sliding behind her.

Very suddenly, the pipe leveled out and she shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, white as a ghost and covered in slime. Marigold got up and trained her wand on him again.

Harry and Neville flew out of the end of the pipe moments later, also covered in slime.

"We must be miles under the school," Harry said, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," Marigold agreed.

Harry and Neville lit their wands and led the way. Marigold followed, pushing Lockhart ahead of her.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight.

"Remember," Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…"

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave; the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Neville stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and they saw that it was littered with small animal bones.

"Harry, there's something up there," Neville said, grabbing Harry by the shoulder.

Everyone froze, watching. Marigold could just make out the outline of something huge and curved, lying right ahead of them. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," Harry breathed.

Very slowly, Harry edged forward, his wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been forty feet long, at least.

"Blimey," Neville said weakly.

Lockhart's knees gave way and he fell to the floor in front of Neville.

"Get up," Neville said, moving his foot away from the groveling Lockhart.

Lockhart got to his feet, and before Marigold could react, he dove at Neville and grabbed for his wand. There were a few quick spells thrown around, a loud BOOM, and Lockhart was sent crashing into one wall, and Marigold into another.

Blinking, Marigold jumped up and saw that Neville had grabbed his wand back from a stunned Lockhart. Coughing, Marigold looked around for Harry but found a solid wall of broken rock.

"Harry!" Marigold exclaimed, rushing over to the rocks. "Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm here!" Harry's muffled voice answered. "I'm okay!"

"We can't get through!" Marigold called, searching the rock desperately.

"Wait here," Harry called. "Wait with Lockhart and Neville. I'll go on… If I'm not back in an hour…"

"I'll try and shift some of this rock," Marigold said, trying to keep her voice even. "When you come back, and you _will_ come back, it will be clear."

"See you in a bit!" Harry said, his voice shaking but seemingly confidant.

Marigold wasn't panicking. She wasn't. It wasn't like she had marched off, half cocked, and failed her duty to Dumbledore. It wasn't like she had kidnapped a teacher and led Harry into the most dangerous situation ever. This was fine.

Marigold turned back to Neville and an unconscious Professor Lockhart. Neville was covered in dirt and looking very close to panicking. Marigold took a deep breath then spoke.

"You watch him first, I'm going to get this rock moved the best I can. Then we can switch."

Neville nodded and Marigold set to work on moving the rock. More and more time was ticking by and she was no closer to the other side. Marigold was desperate, her arms were screaming. She kept going, and going, and going.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and her eyes met Neville's.

"Let me try," he said quietly.

Marigold only nodded. Standing next to Lockhart, Marigold watched as Neville tried, more successfully than she had, to move the rocks. She should have been paying more attention, because if she had, she would have noticed Lockhart reaching for her wand.

(A/N: If you feel up to it, leave a review or like and follow if you haven't already! I love you all, thank you for reading!)


	15. Torture and Torment

(A/N: Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.)

Very suddenly, seven things happened in quick succession.

One, her wand was snatched out of her hand.

Two, Lockhart was wrapping his hand around her hair, and gripping it , he was digging her wand into her neck.

Four, Lockhart's echoing laughter was unfamiliar and disturbing in Marigold's ears.

Five, Neville was lowering his wand, his face displaying his shock and fear.

Six, Neville was diving aside as a blast burst through the rock wall blasting it away.

Seven, Neville had seized up and fallen to the floor, Lockhart lowering his wand once again.

Neville looked on desperately, petrified, as Lockhart marched forward through the tunnel, the hand tangled in her hair keeping her from moving any more than he allowed her to.

"Let's go get Harry Potter and get out of here, he can't have gone too far on his own. After all, you seem to be the brains of the operation; he seems to get on by pure luck. I can still make the best of this situation yet! It's not like I can leave him down here, you know. If he miraculously came back to the castle he would ruin everything. No, we will just have to find him and bring him back with us."

Lockhart was talking to himself more than to Marigold. Marigold was trying to find a way to get out of the situation, but whenever she moved more than the forward march he had her on, he would tighten his grip on her hair. At one point he tightened his fist in her hair so hard that she yelped in pain.

"If you had just let me leave, or - better yet- take your memory, none of this would have to happen. I could have been on my merry way! But you brats had to go off and be heroes!" Lockhart cried maniacally.

They walked through every twist and turn of the tunnel, through a wide, round door, and ultimately found themselves standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled every crevice of the chamber.

Lockhart hesitated for a moment, but pushed on through. A statue was towering at the end of the chamber. It was an ancient wizard, with a long thin beard that went almost to the bottom of his sweeping stone robes. There were two enormous grey feet that rested on the smooth chamber floor.

Ginny was face down between the statue's feet eerily motionless. There were two figures standing behind her. One was Harry, and the other was an older student she didn't recognize. The green on his robes helped him blend in with the green of the chamber. She knew it hadn't been Malfoy or Hagrid!

Neither student noticed Marigold or Professor Lockhart.

Marigold was sure Professor Lockhart had anticipated just finding Harry easily, taking the three of their memories, dragging them back to the castle and claiming credit. So, confronted with the situation in front of them, and when part of the great statue started moving, Lockhart froze unable to comprehend what was going on. Marigold took that moment to get free. She whirled around, ignoring the rip of her hair and the pain that followed. Just as she grabbed her wand from Lockhart, a loud thud echoed through the Chamber. Marigold watched in horror as Lockhart's eyes widened in shock and he fell backwards toward the wet floor.

Marigold quickly bent down and tried to shake him, but he wasn't moving. The eyes she had found so attractive earlier in the year were glassy and dim. His usually handsome face was slack, mouth agape. Marigold heard a hissing noise behind her and closed her eyes tight.

Somehow, the two of them still hadn't been noticed. Harry and the Slytherin student must have been too preoccupied with each other, or maybe the basilisk -she was sure that was what thumped to the ground and killed Lockhart- had been in the way. Either way, echoing yells reverberated through the Chamber.

"NO!" Marigold heard the other student screaming, "LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!"

Why was he yelling at the basilisk, couldn't it just see Harry?

Marigold opened her eyes very carefully and turned around to find herself staring at a giant serpent with bloody eyes thrashing about; blood was flying about in whichever direction the serpent flailed.

Marigold was sure they were going to be spotted any second. The two of them couldn't just stay out in the open. She put a levitation charm on Lockhart, he only hovered enough off the ground for her to grab his foot and drag him behind her. She moved very slowly, dragging Lockhart toward one of the pillars holding up the ceiling.

Behind the long body of the basilisk, Marigold could hear Harry scrambling about, muttering wildly and crying out for help. Each cry caused Marigold's heart to hammer harder. Dumbledore's request rang in her ears, but how was she supposed to keep Harry safe? She had no ideas, so she kept slowly moving Lockhart. It felt like hours before the two of them were hidden behind the pillar.

Marigold looked around the pillar just as the serpent's tail nearly missed Harry. Why didn't he have a wand? Harry began talking to the other student, his voice was angry, but the other student was just laughing. Marigold was trying to formulate a plan, when strange music echoed through the Chamber. Marigold watched in amazement as Fawkes flew through the air toward Harry. The bird's red and gold plumage was a stark contrast to the dreary black and green of the Chamber.

Marigold watched as Fawkes dropped a lumpy piece of fabric in front of Harry. Her eyes grew wide as Harry donned the Sorting Hat.

Harry swayed for a moment as though something had hit him very hard on the head. He took off the hat and pulled out a glimmering, ruby hilted sword. Marigold didn't know where it came from, but without his wand, a sword was Harry's best bet.

The other student was still screaming at the basilisk, but Harry looked more confident. The serpent lunged at Harry. Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. The sword clattered sending a chill down her spine. Her wand was shaking in her hand, but she held on tight. She wanted to lunge out and help Harry, but the timing still wasn't right. She had to be smart about this.

The serpent lunged again and Harry raised the sword in both hands. It looked as though the serpent was trying to swallow him whole. But just as it was about to, and before she could take a step out of hiding, Harry drove the hilt into the roof of its mouth. When Harry pulled the sword out, Marigold saw that one of the fangs was in Harry's arm. Marigold couldn't feel her heart pounding in her chest anymore and was positive that it had stopped.

The serpent swayed for a moment then crashed to the floor with a thud that made the ground shake under her feet.

Harry slid down the chamber wall and ripped the fang out of his arm. Blood was seeping into his robes and through his fingers. Marigold watched as the student slowly walked toward Harry. Compared to the older student, Harry looked too young.

Fawkes flew over and landed by Harry's side. The other student sneered.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," the other student said with a malicious glee. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

Marigold let out a muffled whimper. She could feel her legs shaking. She was hiding, she was hiding and Harry was dying.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Harry was nodding off, blinking slowly. Marigold had one job, one, to protect Harry, and here she was watching him die.

"And so ends the famous Harry Potter. Alone, in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged."

Marigold froze. The Dark Lord? This student _wasn't_ Voldemort, he _couldn't_ be. Marigold's mind started to clear up a little bit, her hands stopped shaking. It was as if the revelation had shocked her out of an infinite loop.

"You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry. She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must!"

A quiet resolve washed over Marigold and she knew what to do. She still had to wait for the right moment, but she had a plan. She focused hard, she would only have one chance to do this. But it would have to be soon, Harry wasn't looking too good.

"Get away bird," the student said suddenly, his voice agitated. "Get away from him—I said, _get away—_ "

He lifted Harry's wand and a loud bang erupted, and Fawkes took flight again, disappearing into the unseen ceiling.

"Phoenix tears, of course, healing powers, I forgot… Makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter… you and me."

He raised the wand, and Marigold walked out from behind the pillar.

 _Everte Statum!_

The student stumbled and fell to the cold floor with a hiss of pain. She had what she wanted, his attention on her.

"What's this? A little friend?" the student said turning to her and getting to his feet. "Oh-ho-ho, you must be Ginny's Mudblood sister, Marigold Rosenberg. Yes, she talked about you a lot," he said laughing. "What do you say Harry, you don't seem to be going anywhere quite yet, should I play with her before I kill the two of you?"

Harry, who hadn't known Marigold was there, tried to get up, but slumped back down to the Chamber floor his eyes rolling a bit in his head. Marigold wished that she had had more time; Harry was in no condition to make a run for it. Time for the plan.

"I don't know who you are, but get away from Harry!" Marigold cried, closing the gap between the two of them. Her wand was aimed at his heart.

"Just run away, Marigold!" Harry croaked.

"Oh, shush, Harry, I've been trapped in an adolescent diary for so long, let me have my fun. Alright girl, let's see what you've got."

He continued to keep his eyes on her, completely ignoring Harry. Though she kept her eyes on him, out of the corner of her eye she could see Harry getting some color back in his face.

"Ginny told me about your dueling skills. She was almost as impressed with you as she was with Harry speaking Parseltongue," he said as he made a ludicrous and mocking bow at her. Marigold didn't move. "Now then, show me what you've got, I'll even give you the first cast."

Marigold tried to disarm him, but he blocked her spell effortlessly.

"You are indeed fascinating, non-verbal magic at your age? It's no wonder Ginny speaks of you so fondly."

Marigold sent out a bolt of lightning, but he blocked that too.

"Advanced," he said laughing. "I've given you two chances Mudblood, but as I suspected, even though you are fun, you are no match for _me_."

He waved his wand and a bright red flash of light shot straight at her. Marigold tried to block, but the spell phased right through her shield and hit her full force in the chest.

She dropped to the floor. The pain was excruciating. She didn't know anything but the white-hot pokers sticking every inch of her skin. She didn't know her name, she didn't know anything anymore. Every breath hurt. Every breath was a scream. She had no sense of time; it could have been forever, it could have never happened. The pain was very real and at the same time it couldn't possibly be, this amount of pain couldn't possibly be inflicted upon a person. Her brain was on fire, and starting to go numb.

At once, it all stopped, and she was panting and crying on the cool, damp floor of the Chamber.

"Tom, please!" someone begged.

Through unfocused eyes, she found at a scruffy haired boy with bright green eyes slumped against a wall. She felt like she knew him, but at the same time her head was groggy.

"But I'm having so much fun," someone whined. "I guess I could stop. I'll have to kill her though." The voice was quite blasé, as if talking about killing her was no big deal.

Someone was walking toward her. She felt a shoe under her stomach and suddenly she was staring at an older boy with handsome features.

Before she could even think of moving away, he crouched down and grabbed her by the hair. He ripped something out of her hand and threw it clattering behind him. He stuck a long stick under her chin and turned her to face the kid. "Do you still want me to stop?"

The kid didn't say anything, the two of them just looked at each other. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling that she knew him, that there was something she was supposed to be doing. But her head was so foggy, she couldn't focus on a single thought.

"Tom, please," he begged.

"So be it," the older student shrugged, dropping her to the floor with a thunk.

Marigold looked at a long stick pointed straight at her face.

"No don't!" She felt her head roll to the side to look at the young boy's scared face. "Have your fun Tom," he spat keeping his eyes on her.

Another wave of red light washed over her, accompanied by laughter.

Everything faded away again as she felt her body erupt in flames. She convulsed on the floor, its coolness was no longer refreshing. Stars danced across her eyes. She could hear her own screams echoing around the room and in her head. She could feel herself blacking out. There was no ceiling above her as she writhed about.

The pain stopped again, her hiccoughing sobs filling the crevices of the room her screams had just occupied.

"I'm bored _again_. Stupid Mudblood, thought she could defeat me. Even if I gave her wand back, look at her, she wouldn't be able to use it. Ah well, say your goodbyes, Harry." Her attacker turned toward the kid.

A rush of wings answered as a bird soared overhead. Spots danced in her eyes and she watched through them as something fell into the kid's lap. Through her unfocused eyes, it looked like a little black book. The two other students looked each other in the eye, and then the one on the floor grabbed a gigantic fang on the floor next to him and plunged it right into the book.

There was a long piercing scream, and for a moment she thought it was her, but the pain wasn't there. Ink was spurting out of the small book in torrents. Her attacker was twisting and screaming and flailing like she had just been. And then, suddenly, he was gone.

The wand fell to the floor with a clatter and there was only the sound of her heavy breathing. The kid dropped the fang and scrambled over to her,grabbing her hand. She felt her eyes roll back and everything went black.

Somewhere far away someone was crying. Marigold could feel someone shaking her and pleading with her to wake up. But it was nice where she was. It was nice and cool. But the voice sounded so desperate. Begrudgingly, she opened her eyes.

A snotty-nosed, puffy-eyed Ginny was sobbing next to Harry, who looked really tired. Marigold felt numb. Somehow, Neville was there too.

Noticing Marigold's eyes were finally open, Ginny flopped down onto Marigold's stomach, letting out a wail of relief and Harry squeezed her hand, smiling wearily down at her. Neville just looked confused, as if he had walked in on something he couldn't comprehend, but he still managed to look happy to see her conscious.

Ginny was blubbering into Marigolds stomach making it really hard to breathe, let alone understand what she was saying. "-Tried to tell - b-breakfast. - couldn't say - Percy—it was _me_ —but I –d-didn't mean to—T-Tom made me- took me over—all my fault!"

Alarmed, Marigold tried to pat her hair, but Ginny whipped up covering her face in her hands.

"I'm going to be expelled!" Ginny wailed. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts for forever, and now I'll have to leave and— _w-what'll Mum and Dad say_?"

"You won't be expelled, it's not your fault," Harry said.

"But you both nearly d-died!"

Marigold's head hurt.

"We need to get out of here," Harry said.

Marigold nodded. Harry helped Ginny to her feet. Marigold managed to get up, but promptly lost all the food in her stomach. Even if she had the Jelly legs jinx on her, her legs would still be working better than they were now.

Harry grabbed both of their wands up off the floor. He also tucked the sword, the Sorting Hat, and the small diary into his robes. Marigold tried walking by herself, but ended up needing to lean on Neville for support.

The three of them made their way to the Chamber entrance where Fawkes was waiting for them over the coils of the dead basilisk. Marigold paused a moment next to Gilderoy Lockhart's body.

Ginny screamed and buried her head in Marigold's chest. Harry's eyes grew wide. Marigold had completely forgotten about him. She realized why Neville wasn't frozen in the tunnel anymore. When she looked closer, she noticed that Lockhart had a clump of her red hair in his hand. Marigold promptly buckled over, dry heaving.

When she was done, she watched herself raise her wand. She watched as Lockhart levitated off the ground; at some point, probably earlier when Tom attacked her, the initial spell had worn off. She looked away as he floated behind them as they left the chamber.

The three of them made their way through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Marigold heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

After a few minutes of making their way down the dark tunnel, Marigold stumbling along, her legs still not properly working, they found the clearing Lockhart had made.

"How are we going to get out of here?" Ginny whimpered.

Harry shook his head, but Fawkes the phoenix jumped off of his shoulder and was fluttering in front of him waving his long golden tail feathers.

"He looks like he wants us to grab hold," Harry said. Marigold didn't question it.

Harry grabbed Ginny's hand, Ginny grabbed Marigold's, and Marigold grabbed onto Neville. They left Lockhart, none of them wanted to touch him.

Harry reached out and grabbed onto Fawkes tail feathers. The moment he did, Marigold felt a strange lightness in her body. The next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. The chill air was whipping through her hair and her body seemed to relax. Before they knew it, they were hitting the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and watched as Fawkes dove back down the pipe.

Marigold heavily debated just staying on the floor, but Fawkes returned, and gently lowered Lockhart onto the floor too close to her for comfort and she decided the floor wasn't for her anymore. As soon as she swayed to her feet, the sink decided that that moment was the moment to close back up again.

Myrtle was goggling at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly at Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly, wiping flecks of blood and slime off his glasses.

Ginny let go of Harry and grabbed onto Marigold who let out a soft moan as Ginny crushed her ribs. Marigold wouldn't be surprised if Ginny's knuckles were white where they were clenched around her back. Marigold had to keep a conscious effort not to buckle under her own weight, let alone Ginny's.

"I didn't know _what_ had happened when I could suddenly move again…" Neville said, breaking the silence. "I wandered around a lot not knowing where to go. Until I heard screaming, that happened in there?"

"Not now," Harry said, motioning toward Ginny.

So Ginny had still been unconscious and Neville hadn't made it to the chamber when everything had happened.

"What now?" Ginny blubbered.

Harry pointed toward Fawkes. They followed Fawkes's glowing gold light along the corridor. Moments later, they found themselves outside Professor McGonagall's office.

Harry knocked, and then, thinking better of it, pushed open the door.

(A/N: Shorter chapter this time. Leave a comment if you enjoyed, and feel free to like and favorite! Happy Holidays and cheers to the new year!)


	16. There Will Always Be More

(A/N: Happy Birthday, you know who you are! Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Please enjoy the last chapter of Marigold Rosenberg and the Blood Stained Walls.)

For a moment there was silence as Marigold, Ginny, Harry, and Neville stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime, and, in Harry and Marigold's case, blood. Then, there was a scream.

"Ginny!"

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves at Ginny. Marigold backed up and found herself staring at a beaming Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall was standing next to him, taking great, steadying gasps and clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past them and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder.

Marigold then felt herself being pulled into Mrs. Weasley's tight embrace, followed by Mrs. Weasley grabbing at Harry and Neville who joined in the hug.

"You saved her! You saved her! _How_ did you do it?"

"I think we would all like to know that," Professor McGonagall said weakly.

Mrs. Weasley let go of Neville and Harry but kept a tight hold on Marigold and Ginny, as if they were tethering her to the planet. After a deep breath, Harry walked over to the desk and laid the Sorting Hat, the ruby encrusted sword, and what remained of Tom Riddle's diary on top.

He then started telling the room everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour he spoke into the rapt silence: he told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Marigold had figured out he was hearing a basilisk; how he and Neville had followed the spiders into the Forbidden Forest while Marigold was in the hospital wing, and that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how they had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber ended up in her bathroom…

"Very well," Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, "so you found out where the entrance was—breaking a hundred school rules along the way, I might add—but how on earth did you all get out of there alive?"

Marigold swayed as she tried to stand. Dumbledore had a look on his face, but she ignored it. Her voice was quiet and hoarse, she hadn't spoken since she had challenged Tom, and since then she had done a lot of screaming.

Marigold began to tell her side of the story. Harry joined in when the two stories connected. Marigold avoided telling the room how her and Lockhart got into the Chamber, she could tell Dumbledore about that later, when they were alone. Neville didn't correct her either. Harry continued from there, telling how Marigold had saved his life by causing Riddle to stumble and stop paying attention to him while he gathered his strength.

Harry paused and looked at Marigold, neither one knew how to explain the next part. Marigold shook her head, she would tell Dumbledore about that later too. Thankfully, Harry understood, and skipped past how she and Tom had dueled. Nobody but Dumbledore seemed to realize there was more to the story than the two were sharing.

Harry continued talking. But after a few more minutes, he had gone as far as he could without mentioning the diary. And Marigold understood, what if they inadvertently got Ginny expelled. The diary didn't work anymore, so they couldn't prove that Riddle had done anything at all.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, who smiled back at him knowingly.

"What interests me," Dumbledore said gently, taking over, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when all my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania."

"Wha-what's that?" Mr. Weasley said in a stunned voice. Mrs. Weasley pulled Ginny closer to her. " _You-Know-Who_? En-enchant _Ginny_? But Ginny hasn't been… has she?"

"It was this diary," Harry said quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. "He wrote in it when he was sixteen…"

Dumbledore took the diary from Harry and peered keenly down at the soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he said softly. "Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, here at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… traveled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley said, looking up. "What's our Ginny got to do with—with— _him_?"

"His d-diary!" Ginny sobbed. "I've b-been writing in it, and he's been writing back all year—"

" _Ginny!_ " Mr. Weasley said flabbergasted. "Haven't I taught you _anything?_ What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can't see where it keeps its brain!_ Why didn't you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic—"

"I d-didn't know," Ginny sobbed. "I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it—"

"Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away," Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. "This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort." He strode over to the door and opened it. "Bed rest and perhaps a large steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up," he said, twinkling down at Ginny. "You will all find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She's just giving out the Mandrake juice—I daresay the basilisk's victims will be waking up any moment now.

Mrs. Weasley helped Ginny up and led her out, followed closely by Mr. Weasley, who still looked deeply shaken.

Once the door closed behind the Weasleys, Dumbledore turned to Marigold, Harry, and Neville in turn.

"Now is the time to tell me everything you didn't say earlier," he said, crossing back over to the desk.

"Dumbledore, I hardly think they would have—"

"Professor Lockhart is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom on the second floor," Marigold said, interrupting Professor McGonagall.

Marigold then told them what she had left out originally. How the three of them had gone to talk to Lockhart, how they had wanted to give him the information they knew. How they had found him running away, and that he had wanted to erase their memories. How Marigold had disarmed him, and they had taken him with them down to the Chamber. Marigold paused, not sure how to continue the story.

"He dove at my wand, there was a scuffle, and when it was over, Harry was behind some fallen rocks, and the three of us on the other side," Neville said, taking Marigold's hand. "Lockhart was unconscious, and Harry had gone further into the Chamber. We were moving the rocks, when…" Neville choked up.

Marigold took back over, telling how she hadn't been paying enough attention and Lockhart grabbed her wand and her hair. How he had wanted to get Harry, get out of there, wipe their memory, and leave Ginny behind. How, when they got into the Chamber, he had frozen out of panic and she had watched him die.

Professor McGonagall put her hand on her mouth and sank back down into her chair.

"There's more, isn't there?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Professor McGonagall shot Dumbledore a look as if to say _what more could they have possibly gone through?_

Marigold let out a breath. For some reason when she spoke again it sounded like it was someone else in the room talking, not her. "I—Tom didn't notice us—so I pulled Lockhart behind a pillar and watched everything happen. I knew if I moved, Tom would kill me, so I stayed put. But then, when Harry killed the basilisk, he got bit. Fawkes healed him, but Tom was going to kill him. I used that moment to distract Tom, try and get Harry a bit of time to get away…" Marigold trailed off.

Dumbledore was looking at her, and Marigold found she couldn't go on. Her stomach was churning, and she doubled over trying not to puke. Neville held onto her arm, as Marigold did her best not to retch on McGonagall's nice office carpet.

"Tom said he was going to have fun before killing us," Harry said. "That he'd been trapped in a diary and had been _so bored_ for _so long_."

McGonagall had set a bin in front of Marigold, who was dry heaving into it. Neville had her hair in a messy hold and was gently rubbing her back.

"The two of them faced off. I was still out of it, so Marigold went first, but she was no match for him. Then he-I don't know what spell it was, but Marigold, sh-she—"

Marigold finally found some food in her stomach to upturn.

"Do you remember the spell?" McGonagall tried, hopefully.

Marigold spat the last of her bile into the bin. Her knuckles were white around the rim.

"Neither of them uttered a word," Harry said, looking at Marigold. "But red light hit her and after that she…"

"I've never felt more pain in my life," Marigold whispered into the bin.

"Dumbledore, you don't thin—"

Marigold was suddenly looking at Dumbledore. He was crouched down next to her, gently lifting her face to look at him, his eyes wild.

"How many times?" he gently, but urgently asked.

"I-I don't know, it felt like an eternity."

"It was twice," Harry said.

Neville was looking between Harry and Marigold frantically.

Dumbledore stood up. "Harry, let me see your wand."

"I begged him to stop, but he said he'd kill her when he stopped," Harry said, handing over his wand.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Harry's and muttered something Marigold couldn't hear. Marigold's knees were weak and she felt them buckling under her. Neville was doing his best to keep her upright. He felt sturdy and she realized how bad she was shaking.

Dumbledore seemed to have gotten an answer from Harry's wand, but how, Marigold didn't know.

"Mr. Longbottom, could you please take Marigold down to the Hospital Wing at once, she should have gone straight there," Dumbledore said.

Neville, still confused, nodded.

"Minerva, please go tend to Lockhart, that is a situation we can't leave alone any longer."

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, what spell was it?" Harry asked, urgently.

"An unforgivable one," Dumbledore said, handing Harry his wand back.

Neville froze beside her, and Professor McGonagall, who had been strutting toward the door on a mission, froze as well. Without a sound, Professor McGonagall composed herself and hurried toward Professor Lockhart.

Harry walked over to Marigold and gently grabbed her other arm. Neville came out of his daze and the two of them helped her to the door.

"Harry, if you would stay a moment," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked from Marigold to Neville and they both just nodded. As the door closed behind them, Marigold halfheartedly wondered why Dumbledore was having Harry stay.

Marigold had been running on pure adrenaline. But with the danger gone, and having reported to Dumbledore, Marigold could feel herself slowing down until she came to a complete stop. Marigold felt her legs swaying and fell forward. Neville, unable to keep her upright, fell with her. Her knees hit hard, but she didn't notice, she just clung to Neville's robes. Raking sobs echoed through the corridor.

Neville just held her close as she cried, awkwardly patting her tangled and damp hair.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice seemed scared. Marigold couldn't stop crying. "Marigold. Hey, it's ok, it's over now, come on we need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

His voice was as shaky as hers had been earlier. Marigold tried to stop crying but couldn't. Her chest was burning and she couldn't breathe. She wanted to run, just run through the halls of Hogwarts, run far away. But she couldn't move!

"Marigold," Neville said, grabbing her face from his robes and making her look at him. Through her blurry eyes he looked really scared. He was going in and out of focus. His face getting bigger and smaller with each breath she took.

"Marigold, do you know who I am?" he asked desperately.

She didn't answer right away; her words were not _there_.

"Goldie?" He was pleading with her.

"Of-of course I-I do."

"Then you are going to be okay."

"How can y-you be s-sure ?" she sobbed.

"Because you know who I am. If you weren't going to be okay, you wouldn't know who I am."

"Th-that doesn't make any s-sense." She wanted to curl up in a ball and disappear.

Neville pulled her into his shoulder, he was shaking just as much as she was.

"My parents are in the Hospital."

Marigold was confused. She didn't know what to say. Nothing was making sense. She wanted to get up. _She didn't want to be here anymore!_ But he was saying something important!

"Gran hasn't told me all the details, she keeps saying she'll tell me more when I'm older. But I know enough." Neville was shaking a little and he had a desperate urgency to his voice. Marigold was trying so hard to focus, but her heart was beating so fast he was hard to hear. "It was right after You-Know-Who's downfall. Some of his followers hadn't accepted that he was gone yet, so they got together and tried to get information out of my parents. They used the Cruciatus curse on my parents, and it made them crazy. So, they live in St Mungo's Hospital now, and I live with my Gran."

"N-Neville, I—"

"When Dumbledore said that it was an unforgivable spell… I think it was the same one… with all the screaming I heard…" Neville trailed off. "They don't remember who they are, let alone who I am. But you remember… so I think—I think you are going to be okay."

Marigold didn't have a clue what to say to him so she just hugged him again. She felt better though, but miserable at the same time. Neither of them said anything for a long time. Neville just let her hug him and cry. At some point she stopped crying, and they still didn't say a word.

"Thank you, Nev," She finally muttered into his shoulder.

It wasn't enough, she wanted to say more, she wanted to tell him she was sorry about his parents, that she was thankful he was her friend, that she appreciated him talking to her not just because it made her feel better, but because he confided in her.

"Let's get you to the hospital wing," he said.

The two of them walked into chaos; well, Neville half carried her into chaos. Marigold's eyes were still unfocused and she still couldn't quite carry herself, but she could kind of see all the petrified students milling about the wing. Colin, Justin, and Penelope were all talking excitedly, and Hermione was over with the Weasleys who were crowded around Ginny's bed.

Madam Pomfrey noticed them first, and bustled over to them and gently took Marigold's other hand. Marigold just followed, she was too tired. Dumbledore had probably somehow sent word to the matron about what had happened.

Marigold didn't want to let go of Neville's hand, but Madam Pomfrey assured her that he wasn't going to leave and that he would be right outside the curtain. Marigold finally agreed and Madam Pomfrey closed the curtain around Marigold and a bed. as she helped Marigold into some warm, clean, white cotton pajamas, Marigold hissed when raising her arms.

"You have a big bruise on your back with lots of tiny cuts," Madam Pomfrey said quietly.

"Slammed into a rock wall," Marigold mumbled.

"Your scalp is bleeding."

"Hair was ripped out."

"I'll be right back with something to make you feel better. I'll let Mr. Longbottom in." Her voice was gentle and her eyes were kind.

Marigold nodded. The sheets were warm and soft. Madam Pomfrey disappeared. Marigold closed her eyes, but felt the hard floor of the Chamber and opened them again. Neville was sitting next to her with a nervous smile on his face.

Madam Pomfrey gave her so many tonics and rubbed an ointment that smelled like fresh cut pine trees on her back. She even had a small basin of warm, soapy, pink water which she washed Marigold's hair in. That stung so much, Marigold's eyes watered. At some point during this process, the craziness of the Hospital Wing had stopped and a peaceful quiet had settled.

"Where did everyone go?" she asked absentmindedly.

"Dumbledore called for a feast. It seems he has a few announcements to make," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Could we go?"

"Well, Mr. Longbottom could go, and other than the bruise on your back and a small patch on your scalp, which are already healing, you have no other physical injuries." But Madam Pomfrey had a sad look on her face. "But with what I've been told, it seems there might be some scarring that even I can't see or heal."

Marigold nodded.

"My dear, there isn't any potion or any ointment I could give you to treat an Unforgivable Curse." Madam Pomfrey sat down next to Marigold and took her hand very gently. She had tears in the corners of her eyes. "The pain may be gone, but it won't be forgotten."

Madam Pomfrey handed Marigold one last potion, one Marigold recognized as a sleeping drought.

"Would you like me to stay with you?" Neville asked.

"You should go to the feast, I'm just going to be sleeping anyway," Marigold said.

"I'll talk to Harry, let him know how you are," Neville said, making no moves toward the door.

Marigold tipped the vial back and found herself in a dreamless sleep.

Neville didn't go to the feast. The only time he got up was when he was sure she was asleep and it was just to go wash her blood off his hands and go back to her bedside. He stayed there until the next morning when Madam Pomfrey woke him up and kicked him out saying Marigold had another visitor. Grumbling, he went off to talk to Harry, to tell him everything he had been avoiding saying up until then.

Marigold woke up to the high ceiling of the Hospital Wing. She felt better, rested, _safe_. She had forgotten how nice it was to just breathe. A movement out of the corner of her eye alerted her that someone was there. Dumbledore was sitting next to her, reading the Daily Prophet.

"I did my best to keep him alive," Marigold said, looking back at the ceiling. Her voice was still scratchy.

"You did well," Dumbledore said, she heard him put down the paper.

"Someone died."

"True."

"I'll be expelled, right?" Marigold asked.

"I have written to the Minister of Magic and all other authorities on the matter. None of you will be expelled. Lockhart's death was an accident, and though the circumstances weren't in your favor, no repercussions will come of it.

"Everyone has concluded, with a little bit of ethical and mental wiggling along with some lies, that Lockhart died trying to protect the three of you from a basilisk. The only few who know the truth have agreed to this."

Marigold found that she wasn't even remotely surprised and agreed as well.

"My dear girl, I'm afraid I must ask more of you."

Marigold lazily turned her head to face Dumbledore, his eyes looked sad.

"You are still so young, and I do wish we didn't have to have this conversation until you were older. I didn't plan to have this conversation for some time; but my dear, bad things are happening and bad things are going to happen in the future."

"Voldemort isn't gone, is he?" Marigold asked, thinking back to Dumbledore's comment about Albania.

"I don't believe he ever was," Dumbledore said.

"What more can _I_ do?"

"You have a rare, fierce loyalty, Marigold Rosenberg. I asked you to watch over and protect your friend, and you did. Knowing the consequences, you saved his life. That kind of dedication is hard to come by, harder yet at your young age.

"You have also aligned yourself with probably the most difficult person to stay that loyal to; the most difficult person to protect. Harry is going to face danger far worse than this for the rest of his life. Your selflessness to keep him alive will crop up again and again; that's just part of being next to Harry Potter."

"Are you are asking me if I would do it over again?" Marigold interrupted, confused with what Dumbledore was getting at.

"I already know that you would. I'm telling you that you will have to do _more_ in the future."

Marigold thought back to the Chamber. She had known from the beginning that if she moved Tom would kill her. She had been scared, but she had also been strategic. She had waited until the right moment to make her presence known.

"When Voldemort comes back, as you say he inevitably will, how am _I_ supposed to protect Harry," Marigold said, tracing the pattern on her sheets. "Doing what I did only bought time, it didn't really _save_ him."

"Then buy time. Fight for him. Keep him alive."

Marigold looked up at Dumbledore and didn't say anything for a long moment.

"This is why you've been giving me the books about dueling and nonverbal magic, isn't it?"

"I have known what kind of person you are from our first interaction, my dear. Harry is connected to Voldemort in some way, and you are connected to Harry. Although I can't say I know why that connection is there, I do know that it is important. Harry will need you next to him every step of the way."

So much information was swimming around in her head. Dumbledore got up, taking the paper with him.

"I'll leave you to rest, or Poppy might have my head."

Dumbledore turned to leave, but Marigold called out as he reached out to the curtain.

"Why did you tell me all of this? Even if you hadn't, I would have watched over him. He's my best friend."

"That's exactly _why_ I told you."

After Dumbledore left, Madam Pomfrey kept everyone from visiting, and Marigold was grateful. Although she was feeling better, at least physically, her brain was somewhere else.

Two scenes kept playing over in her head and she didn't know which one scared her more. One was in the past, and though it was excruciating, it was over. The other promised unforeseen pain in the future.

Dumbledore had all but come out and said that she might… not might… _will have to do more in the future._ Marigold was probably going to die for Harry in the future... Dumbledore was right of course; if faced with the choice, she _would_ die for Harry, Neville too. She had asked herself that before, and though she said yes, the gravity of it hadn't been real until now. Everyone says they would die for the people they love… but with real pain and misery behind her as consequences to her actions? She could now say that she would do it again. She didn't have to imagine a scenario anymore. Now, when Dumbledore tells her to watch over Harry, she knows what she's agreed to.

Instead of protecting him from a troll or helping him get through other dangerous situations, now she knew the consequences of facing off with someone who actually, actively wanted, and would try to kill the two of them. She had been in a real duel and it was so different from anything she had expected.

Marigold didn't know about unforgivable curses. In all of her books she had seen jinxes, hexes, curses even. And even though some of them were really bad, like the one that momentarily sucked all the air out of the lungs, or caused blood to leak out of the eyes for temporary blindness, none of them were as bad as the one she had endured at the hands of Tom. How does one even prepare for a curse that can't be blocked? What other Unforgivable Curses were out there?

Marigold stayed in the Hospital Wing until the next morning. Madam Pomfrey was sure that Marigold was doing better enough to leave, but told her not to keep anything to herself and talk to an adult if she needed to. She gave her clean robes to change into and then let Marigold go.

When Marigold climbed through the portrait hole, she found herself engulfed in hugs. Hermione and Ginny were hugging her so tight that she could barely breathe. Fred, George, and Ron were next; even Percy gave her a hug.

Nobody asked her any questions, though she could tell they wanted to. When everyone was done, Marigold saw Harry and Neville across the room. Everyone was quiet, watching as the three of them ran into each other's arms. For the first time in what felt like years, Marigold smiled.

A flash of light broke through their embrace and Marigold looked up to see mousy-faced Colin Creevey grinning behind a camera. He didn't rush up for a hug and was surprised when Marigold was wrapping her arms around his neck.

"It's good to have you back," Marigold said, beaming.

Marigold woke up the next morning groggy and not fully aware of what was going on. She grabbed her planner and looked down at the flashing letters on the front of it. For the first time since living with her father, she didn't want to do magic. It was time for exams, and she was so ill prepared.

After a long debate with herself over whether or not she should just stay in bed until it was time to go home on the Hogwarts Express, she ultimately swung her legs out of bed clinging to the hope that at the very least the teachers would grade them easily, given the hectic year they had all faced.

Everyone in the Great Hall looked like they hadn't slept in weeks. Marigold felt horrible for the fifth and seventh years who had two weeks of important and life changing exams ahead of them while she, Harry, and Neville along with all the other years only had a week of normal exams.

Hermione and the other students who had been petrified had been excused from exams, something Hermione seemed almost sad about. However, Marigold could see her breathing down Ron's neck on the other side of the hall for not following her schedule while she was in the hospital wing.

Marigold stared down at her jam toast and felt her stomach roll. Professor McGonagall _had_ said that exams were the only reason they were keeping the school open, but her heart wasn't in it.

Marigold looked up at Neville and Harry. The two of them looked just as miserable as she did.

Just like last year, the exams were split up between a practical and a written, and the houses were split up with two taking the practical and the other two taking the written.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was first. It seemed like the teachers wanted to get this exam out of the way. It was very somber in the exam room while everyone answered the questions that Professor Lockhart had written up. Some of the questions were even about the material they covered.

The practical was very simple, they had to get a Cornish Pixy into a cage. Marigold was nearly in tears when she walked out of the exam room. She wasn't the only one but not everyone seemed as broken up about his death as she was.

Even though he had put her own wand to her neck and wanted to wipe her memory, Marigold still felt responsible for his death. Why had they gone to his office anyway? To give him information about the Chamber? They should have just left him to run away when they realized that's what was happening. But _noooo_ they had to challenge him, piss him off, and essentially kidnap him at wandpoint.

They should have just left him. They could have just left him. Why didn't they just leave him?

Marigold had always thought he was an idiot, why bring him into the chamber with them? He had obviously been a liability. Next time- oh god, there was going to be a next time- next time she would have to be smarter. They could have died because she ordered him to go with them. She was going to have to be more strategic if she was going to keep Harry alive and safe.

The Transfiguration practical was next, they had to transform a bird into a goblet, Marigold managed to get a perfect goblet, except it didn't make a nice ringing noise when Professor McGonagall ran her finger around the rim.

Lunch was next, and Marigold, Harry, and Neville grabbed sandwiches and walked out to the lake to eat. Marigold flopped down on the grass next to Neville, putting her arm over her eyes and stuffing a sandwich into her face.

"This sucks," Marigold mumbled through her sandwich that tasted like nothing.

"Did you hear that Lucius Malfoy was sacked as school governor?" Harry asked.

"No wonder Malfoy is extra sulky," she said.

"I didn't get the chance to tell you yesterday when I told Neville, but I saw Dobby again when I was talking to Dumbledore."

Marigold removed her arm; the sun blinded her for a moment. Harry had a grin on his face. Neville was chuckling into his sandwich.

"Don't keep me waiting, tell me!"

"Remember how Dumbledore wanted to talk to me for another moment?" Harry asked, finishing his lunch. "Lucius Malfoy strutted in, looking all high and mighty. He wanted to know why Dumbledore was back at Hogwarts. Dumbledore said that everyone thought Ginny had died, and they wanted him back immediately, they also seemed to think that Mr. Malfoy had threatened their families.

"The two of them just talked while Dobby kept motioning to Mr. Malfoy and Tom Riddle's diary. I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, but I think Mr. Malfoy put the diary in Ginny's cauldron that day he and Mr. Weasley got into that fight. It was then that I had a brilliant thought."

Harry's eyes glistened.

"I took the diary and wrapped it in my sock and gave it back to Mr. Malfoy. He tossed the sock aside and Dobby caught it! Mr. Malfoy accidentally freed Dobby, which he wasn't very happy about."

"That's amazing Harry!" Marigold exclaimed.

The rest of the exams went by in a blur, and soon enough Marigold and the boys were spending their days waiting for the results and enjoying the sun. With exams out of the way, Marigold was doing her best to keep herself occupied. If she let her mind wander, she would start feeling as though she was watching herself do things instead of doing them. And the guilt...

Marigold could feel Harry and Neville keeping an eye on her. And unlike Harry, who was kind of annoying about it, Neville was very covert on how he was trying to cheer her up. Harry would constantly ask how she was doing, but Neville was a lot better about it. Whenever she found herself spiraling, she would suddenly find Neville talking to her about absolutely nothing. His help and sly method of doing so didn't escape her, and she was very thankful.

Marigold had missed Hagrid's return during the feast, and with exams she hadn't had time to go see him. But the first free day they got, the three of them made their way to go visit.

It was good to have him back. To the three of them, he made Hogwarts more like home.

They finally got their results back having passed everything. Marigold had passed with flying colors again, Harry had done adequate in everything, and Neville had scraped by in some and done exceptionally well in others. Marigold was relieved. That night there was one last feast where it was revealed that Gryffindor had won the House Cup for the second year in a row, thanks, in large part, to Marigold, Harry, and Neville.

Then, all too soon, they were loaded up on the Hogwarts Express hurdling back to platform nine and three quarters. Everyone had hung out in the same compartment for a big chunk of the train ride, but eventually everyone trickled out to say goodbye to friends and wish them a happy summer.

Marigold was leaning against the window with her feet poking Neville, and Harry was stuffing his face with a sugar quill when a huffy Colin Creevey came running into their compartment.

"I didn't get the chance before because they didn't finish in time, but these are for you!" Colin stuffed three envelopes into their hands, and rushed off. "See you next year!"

The three of them opened their envelopes and found a moving picture of the three of them laughing and hugging in the common room.

Marigold smiled, and, wordlessly, shrunk her photo and put it in the locket around her neck.

The train came to a stop and the three of them jumped. They had all been wordlessly appreciating the photos. The three of them scrambled to grab their things and make it off the train.

"You'll write again, won't you?" Neville asked, setting down his trunk.

"Of course," Marigold said, wrapping an arm around his neck and one around Harry's.

"Without Dobby stealing my mail? Obviously," Harry said.

The three of them laughed, and together, they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.

(A/N: Marigold Rosenberg's story will continue in Here and There, a short story, and then again in Marigold Rosenberg and the Grim Encounter. Thank you all so much for reading and loving Marigold. Sometimes when I write her, she feels real. But don't all the characters?)


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